tihxaxy  of  t:he  Cheolo^icd  ^tminavy 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 

FROM  THE  LIBRARY  OF 
ROBERT  ELLIOTT  SPEER 


•3^^»' 


BX  5937  .M28  Y4 
McConnell,  S.  D.  1845-1939 
A  year's  sermons 


BY  S.  D.  McCONNELL,  D.  D. 


A  YEAR'S  SERMONS.    12mo,  Cloth $1.25 

SONS    OF    GOD.    A  Series   of  Sermons.    12mo, 

Paper,  50  cents.    Cloth 1.25 

HISTORY  OF  THE  AMERICAN  EPISCOPAL 
CHURCH.  From  the  Planting  of  the  Colo- 
nies to  the  Close  of  the  Civil  War.  Sixth 
Edition,  8vo,  Cloth 2.00 

SERMON  STUFF.    First  Series.      12mo,  Cloth. .  1.00 

SERMON  STUFF.    Second  Series.    12mo,  Cloth..  1.00 

THOMAS  WHITTAKER,  Publisher, 
2  and  3  Bible  House,  New  York. 


A  TEAKS  SEEMOJ^S 


a  D.  McCONNELL,  D.  D. 

Author  of  "  Histort/  of  the  American  Episcopal  Church" 
"Sons  of  Ood,"  etc. 


NEW  YORK 
THOMAS   WHITTAKER 

2  AND  3  Bible  House 


CopTRiaHT,  1896, 
Bt  THOMAS  WHITTAKEEo 


TO    THE 

CONGREGATION  OUTSIDE  THE  CHURCH  ; 

THAT  PEOPLE  WHO  ARE 

THE    FASCINATION    AND  THE  DESPAIR  OF 

THE    PREACHER, 

THIS  LITTLE  VOLUME  IS 

■WITH  HOPEFULNESS  AND  DOUBTFULNESS 

INSCRIBED. 


PEEFACE. 


These  sermons,  in  their  present  form,  were 
never  preached.  Indeed,  if  one  should  speak 
with  precision,  they  may  scarcely  be  called  ser- 
mons. They  were  prepared  weekly  during  a  year 
for  the  editorial  page  of  the  PMladelpMa  Press. 
They  are  an  attempt  to  speak  to  that  large,  and 
it  is  to  be  feared,  growing  class  of  men  and  women 
who  are  not  hostile  to  religion,  but  who  are  out- 
side the  circle  of  Christ's  Disciples. 
Philadelphia,  Lent,  1896. 


CONTENTS. 


SERMONS 

I.  The  Life  by  Faith, 

II.  Banishing  Sin,  .        .        .        , 

III.  Christ,  His  own  Master,     , 

IV.  The  Use  of  Pain,      ... 
V.  The  Maricet  Value  of  a  Soul, 

VI.  Bearing  Other  People's  BurdenS; 

VII.  Shameful  Ignorance, 

VIII.  Religion  and  Business,    . 

IX.  The  Meaning  of  Lent, 

X.  Who  Has  a  Devil,    . 

XI.  Family  Religion, 

XII.  Sins  of  Ignorance,  . 

XIII.  OVER-CONFIBENCE, 

XIV.  The  Cry  from  the  Cross, 
XV.  Future  Existence, 

XVI.  The  Light  the  Christian  Sees, 

XVI^  What  is  a  Christian  ? 

XVIIL  Who  IS  He?       .... 

XIX.  Religion  and  Morality, 

XX.  The  Authority  of  Christianity, 

XXI.  The  Faulty  Moral  Nature, 

XXII.  Satan's  Divided  Kingdom, 

XXIII.  Three  Types  of  Faith, 

XXIV.  Revelation  and  Men's  Capacity, 


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CONTENTS. 


SERMONS 

XXV.  The  Mind  of  Chkist, 

XXVI.  Thy  Will  Be  Done,    . 

XXVII.  A  Liaison  with  the  Wobld,  . 

XXVIII.  Restoke  Such  an  One, 

XXIX.  Sending  Their  Regrets, 

XXX.  Imitation  of  Christ, 
XXXI.  Some  Fall  among  Thorns,     . 

XXXII.  The  Question  op  Temperance, 

XXXIII.  The  Gospel  for  the  Poor,    . 

XXXIV.  The  Son  of  Man, 
XXXV.  Sowing  and  Reaping, 

XXXVI.  The  Proof 

XXXVII.  His  Religion  to  be  Universal,     . 

XXXVIII.  The  Expression  op  Religion,    . 

XXXIX.  Concerning  the  Church, 

XL.  Sinning  by  Proxy, 

XLI.  Men's  Evil  Turned  to  Good, 

XLII.  Jesus  the  Path-finder, 

XLIII.  God's  Opinion  of  a  Man's  Value, 

XLIV.  The  Devil 

XLV.  Truth  and  Goodness. 

XLVI.  The  Twin  Laws, 

XL VII.  Think  of  the  Children, 

XLVIII.  God's  Bounty,      .... 

XLIX.  The  Tyranny  of  Business,     . 

L.  The  Last  Scene, 

LI.  The  Christian  Child,     . 

LII.  The  Christ  Child, 


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806 


A  YEAR'S  SERMONS. 
I. 

THE  LIFE  BY  FAITH. 
"ZTbe  just  6ball  live  bs  taltb."— Romans!.  17. 

"Just,"  in  Scriptural  language,  is  practically 
the  same  as  "religious."  The  phrase  "shall 
live"  does  not  refer  at  all  to  the  future  life,  but 
to  a  method  of  living  in  this  world.  Bearing 
these  meanings  in  mind,  the  text  might  be  para- 
phrased to  read,  "The  religious  man  conducts 
his  life  by  the  principle  of  faith." 

We  may  as  well  candidly  confess  at  the  outset, 
that  no  sane  man  would  consent  to  live  by  faith 
if  he  had  it  in  his  power  to  live  by  knowledge. 
For  anyone  to  start  upon  a  path  whose  end  he 
cannot  see,  and  with  the  road  to  which  he  is 
unfamiliar,  is  simply  folly,  unless  there  is  some 
strong  compulsion  to  justify  him.  Occasionally, 
a  foolish  fellow  does  start  upon  such  a  venture, 
being  attracted  chiefly  by  its  possible  peril,  but 
he  is  never  regarded  as  a  wise  man  by  his  friends, 
and,  in  fact,  is  not  a  wise  man.  The  sensible 
man  wants  to  know  ;  he  wants  to  know  why  he 
does  such  and  such  things  ;  he  wants  to  know  as 


2  THE  LIFE  BY  FAITH. 

accurately  as  possible  where  they  lead  to  and 
what  the  consequence  will  be.  If  it  were  possi- 
ble for  men  to  regulate  their  lives  by  knowledge, 
the  other  method,  living  by  faith,  might  be  dis- 
missed at  once  as  the  idle  dream  of  a  visionary. 
But  a  little  sober  thought,  and  looking  the  facts 
of  life  in  the  face,  will  show  anyone  that  in  the 
really  important  things  knowledge  is  not  avail- 
able. By  knowledge  I  mean  scientific  accuracy, 
Exact  knowledge  breaks  down  the  instant  it  has 
'to  do  with  persons  instead  of  with  things;  for 
there  is  in  every  person  with  which  one  has  to 
do,  an  uncertain  and  unknowable  element.  In 
ordinary  human  friendships,  for  instance,  the 
friendship  is  not  based  upon  knowledge,  but  pre- 
cedes the  knowledge.  Any  friendship  or  affec- 
tion which  can  give  a  scientific  account  of  itself, 
of  the  reason  why  it  exists,  shows  by  that  very 
fact  that  it  is  not  a  bona  fide  affection  at  all. 
One  is  attached  to  his  friends,  and  one  loves  his 
lover,  and  in  each  case  it  is,  at  the  last  analysis, 
an  act  of  faith.  He  does  it  before  he  knows 
why  he  does  it.  So  that,  then,  one  need  not  be 
surprised  when  he  is  told,  the  instant  he  enters 
into  the  realm  of  religion,  that  he  is  in  an  area 
where,  in  the  nature  of  things,  exact  information 
is  not  available.  This  can  be  seen  by  looking  in 
two  directions :  First  at  what  we  familiarly  call 
"morals." 

One  of   the  most  interesting  studies  of  the 
present  time  is  concerning  the  origin  of  the  moral 


THE  LIFE  BY  FAITH.  3 

code  and  of  the  moral  sense.  It  is  not  my  pur- 
pose to  enter  into  that  discussion  at  all,  but 
merely  to  remind  you  of  the  fact  that,  let  the 
origin  of  the  moral  sense  or  moral  code  be  what 
it  will— whether  in  evolutionary  experience  or 
in  an  immediate  divine  revelation,  the  fact  still 
remains  that  the  internal  feeling  which  bids  us 
do  what  our  moral  sense  tells  us,  is  a  feeling 
which  will  give  no  account  of  itself.  It  is  simply 
a  feeling,  and  that  is  all  you  can  say  about  it. 
It  bids  us  do  certain  things  and  abstain  from  do- 
ing certain  other  things,  and  it  speaks  in  an  im- 
perative voice.  We  can  obey  it  or  let  it  alone, 
but  the  binding  force  of  the  voice  is  a  thing  of 
which  we  can  give  no  explanation. 

Every  good  deed,  therefore,  is  an  act  of  faith. 
If  I  restrain  myself  from  the  gratification  of  an 
appetite  because  I  believe  the  gratification  to  be 
wrong,  I  deny  myself  an  immediate  pleasure  be- 
cause I  actually  iiave  faith  in  an  authority  which 
overrides  the  appetite.  If  I  take  a  dollar  out  of 
my  own  pocket  and  give  it  to  a  hungry  man,  I 
do  it  in  obedience  to  a  feeling  which  is,  in  its 
essence,  faith.  Now  it  is  perfectly  true  that 
all  the  maxims  of  prudence  are  against  this 
method  of  conducting  one's  life.  "Poor  Rich- 
ard" has  no  end  of  good  counsels  which  are  be- 
yond comparison  wiser  than  the  counsels  of  the 
Apostle  Paul;  nevertheless,  every  sane  man 
knows  that  St.  Paul  was  right  and  "Poor 
Richard"  wrong. 


X 


4  THE  LIFE  BY  FAITH. 

Wlien  we  take  a  second  step,  from  morals  into 
the  region  of  religion  j)ure  and  simple,  it  is  as 
well  once  and  for  all  to  recognize  the  fact  that 
we  have  stepped  into  a  phice  where  scientific 
demonstration  is  not  to  be  had.  The  religious 
sense  is  as  imperative  as  the  moral  sense,  where 
it  speaks  at  all,  and  it  gives  no  exi)lanation  of 
its  commands.  Men  constantly  make  a  mistake 
here.  They  stand  at  the  threshold  of  religion, 
waiting  and  ready  to  be  convinced.  They  think 
they  have  the  right  to  demand  arguments  and 
reasons  which  will  break  down  all  their  intel- 
lectual reluctance  and  compel  them  to  accept 
certain  doctrinal  conclusions.  Now,  religious 
belief  is  not  reached  by  arguments.  Conviction 
does  not  lie  at  the  end  of  a  syllogism. '  It  is 
quite  true  that  any  rational  man  should  be  able 
to  "give  a  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  in  him." 
But  if  there  be  any  faith  in  him  at  all,  it  is  there 
before  the  reasons  for  it  have  shaped  themselves 
clearly  in  his  mind.  The  really  difficult  thing 
in  the  way  of  entrance  upon  the  religious  life, 
and  the  pursuit  of  such  a  life,  is  that  it  is  in 
sharp  antagonism  with  the  wisdom  which  is  real 
wisdom  in  other  things.  We  are  so  accustomed 
to  walk  by  sight  in  those  interests  near  to  us, 
that  the  principle  of  faith  seems  untrustworthy. 
Under  the  stress  of  some  strong  emotion,  or  even 
of  a  passing  impulse,  one  is  ready  to  follow  the 
lead  of  faith  a  little  way  ;  but  he  also,  as  it  were, 
attempts  to  keep  one  hand  on  the  rail  of  experi- 


THE  LIFE  BY  FAITH.  6 

ence  while  he  ventures  one  foot  along  the  path  of 
faith.     He  is  reluctant  to  venture  a  foot  so  far 
that  he  cannot  draw  it  back  again  in  case  it  seems 
to  lead  him  into  difficulties. 
\  The  essential  reason  why  the  religious  life  can 
only  be,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  a  life  by  faith,  y 
is  because  it  has  to  do  directly  with  a  person  and    • 
not  with  a  thing.     If  religion  consisted  in  obedi- 
ence to  a  code  or  set  of  regulations,  it  would  be 
possible  to  formulate  the  code  and  examine  it 
with  minutest  care  before  one  adopts  it  at  all. 
But  religion,  as  we  understand  the  term,  posi- 
tively refuses  to  stand  upon  any  such  ground.  It 
is  a  relation  of  the  individual  soul  to  the  indi- 
vidual God  ;  and  because  it  is,  if  it  be  anything 
at  all,  a  relationship  between  j)ersons,  it  possesses, 
that  same  element  of  the  unknown  which  always-  '. 
must  exist  in  any  relation  between  actual  living  ___ 
persons. 

Yet  it  is  easy  to  see  the  unmistakable  gain  to 
anyone  who  does  frankly  adopt  this  principle 
of  life.  It  gives  him  peace,  for  instance,  in  the 
presence  of  that  most  pressing  fact  of  all  human 
life,  the  fact  of  sin.  When  he  is  exhausted  in 
the  struggle  against  temptation  and  feels  tempted 
to  throw  it  all  up,  as  not  being  worth  the  cost  of 
the  self-repression  which  it  entails,  the  only  re- 
enforcement  which  can  come  to  him  is  what,  if 
you  love  the  x)hrase,  you  may  call  "  blind  faith." 
It  is  blind  ;  but  in  that  it  simply  shares  with  all 
the  fundamental  emotions  and  impulses  of  men. 


6  THE  LIFE  BY   FAITH. 

Besides  that,  it  makes  him  easy  in  the  presence 
of  circumstances.  One  is  entangled  constantly 
by  such  a  complication  of  apparently  meaning- 
less facts  and  forces  that  he  is  puzzled  at  times 
to  know  why  he  is  here,  why  he  came,  what  good 
is  to  come  from  it  all,  or  where  he  is  going.  In 
such  a  mood  the  only  thing  upon  which  he  can 
stay  himself  is  the  principle  which  St.  Paul  lays 
down.  For  under  all  the  perplexities  of  life 
there  is  the  subconscious  feeling  that,  com- 
plicated as  it  all  seems,  there  is  a  plan  which 
is  being  slowly  worked  out  and  of  which  he 
forms  a  part.  A  workman  is  willing  to  labor 
and  sweat  in  the  heat  of  a  summer  sun,  doing 
menial  work  for  the  erection  of  a  house  or 
church  or  a  temple  of  justice.  But  he  would  not 
undergo  the  labor  for  a  single  day,  if  he  did  not 
have  behind  it  all  the  unspoken  and  usually 
unthought  conviction  that  there  is,  in  the  midst 
of  all  the  confusion,  an  architect's  plan  which  is 
slowly  being  realized. 

—  The  religious  life  is  always  an  experiment. 
The  first  religious  man,  according  to  our  way  of 
thinking,  of  which  there  is  any  record,  is  Abra- 
ham, the  "father  of  the  faithful."  He  mani- 
fested his  religion  in  the  only  way  possible  to 
X  him.  "He  went  out,  not  knowing  where  he 
went,"  preferring  that  rather  than  to  stay  in  the 
midst  of  a  community  which  was  beyond  refor- 
mation and  wliich  offended   his  moral  sense  at 

__ every  turn.     The  supreme  instance  is  Christ,  the 


THE  LIFE  BY  FAITH.  7 

key  to  whose  life  is  this  same  principle  of  faith~ 
that  St.  Paul  lays  down  :  "  Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy 
will,  O  Lord."     It  is  an  experiment.     It  is  an 
experiment  which  is  entered  upon  as  birds  begin 
tlieir  migration.     It  is  not  the  actual  presence  of 
frost,  or  suffering  from  hunger,  which  induces  the  V  V 
feathered  citizens  to  flock  together  in  mimic  con- 
vention and  take  their  flight  to  the  South  ;   it  is 
because  they  are  moved  by  a  deep  inward,  uni- 
versal unrest,  which  is  itself   a    i)i'ophecy,  and 
which  realizes  its  prophecy  in  the  warm,  balmy_ 
climate  of  the  South. 


II. 

BANISHING  SIN. 
"  JBcboIJ)  tbe  ILamb  of  0oD,  wbicb  taftetb  awag  tbc  ein 

of  tbe  WOrlD."— John  i.  29. 

An"  Egyptian  king  of  the  eigliteenth  dynasty 
issued  a  decree  that  Satan  shoukl  be  banished 
from  the  two  Egypts.  King  Canute  set  his  royal 
chair  on  the  sand  wliere  the  tide  lipped,  and  is- 
sued his  royal  mandate  that  the  water  should  not 
rise  above  the  place  wliere  he  struck  liis  scepter. 
Jesus  proposes  to  Himself  the  task  of  rolling 
back  the  tide  of  sin.  Is  this  proposition  intrinsi- 
cally any  more  reasonable  or  worthy  of  sober 
consideration  than  either  of  the  former  ones? 

I  wish  it  clearly  to  be  understood  that,  when  in 
this  I  speak  of  sin,  I  mean  sin.  I  do  not  mean 
misfortune,  or  misery,  or  penalty,  or  any  evil  con- 
sequence whatsoever — I  mean  sin  ;  because  it  is 
from  it  that,  not  by  any  means  all,  but  at  the 
same  time  a  very  large  proportion,  of  what  men 
call  evil,  springs.  What  oppresses  one  when  he 
seriously  confronts  the  situation  is  the  bulk,  the 
nccumulation,  the  potency  of  this  mischievous 
thing  which  men  call  sin.     It  is  so  big.     There  is 


BANISHING  SIN.  9 

SO  much  of  it.     It  so  interpenetrates  all  human 
life.     It  lies  in  wait  and  strikes  like  a  serpent. 
It  goes  up  and  down  and  springs  upon   those 
whom  it  would  devour,  like  a  lion.     Itself  and  its 
results  have  been  accumulating  all  through  the 
ages.     It  is  piled  up  in  societj^     It  is  registered 
in   the  human  soul  and  body.     It  is  passed  on 
by  evil  inheritance  from  father  to  child,  to  the 
third  and  fourth  generation.     It  shows  itself  in        "^ 
persons.     It  dominates   the  political   order.     It 
poisons   the   social   order — it   is   everywhere,   in 
everything,    in   every   person;    like   a   miasma, 
poisoning  the  atmosphere  that  all  men  breathe  ; 
like  a  poison  in  the  water  that  all  men  drink  ; 
like  an  evil  tempter  squat  at  the  ear  of  Eve  when  . 
she  sleeps  ;  soliciting  Adam  when  he  wakes.     The .., 
feeling  of   the  sober-minded  man  when  he  con- 
fronts  it  all  is  one  of  hopelessness.     When   he 
hears  a  human   being  affirm  his  own  purity,  or 
even   his  hope  of  ultimate  sanctification,   it  is 
difficnlt  to  keep  from  regarding  such  a  mnn  as 
a  fanatic.     When  he  hears   a   reformer  inveigh 
against  the  faults  of  the  times,  and  pnint  a  pic- 
ture of  the  pure  age  that  might  be,  it  is  hard  to 
keep  from  regarding  such  a  man  as  an  impracti- 
cable visionary.     In   the  presence  of  the  actual 
facts,  the  sober-minded  man  is  apt  to  settle  back 
upon  the  conviction  that  the  most  that  can  be 
done  is  to  secure  decency,  reasonable  security  of 
life  and  property,  and  cover  all  the  rest  as  far  as 
possible  out  of  sight,  not  forgetting  that  it  is, 


10  BANISHING  SIN. 

but  convinced  that  nothing  is  to  be  gained  by 
either  talking  or  thinking  about  it. 

Now,  in  the  face  of  all  these  facts  and  all 
these  habits,  comes  the  proposal  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
a  proposal  seriously  made,  to  take  away,  that  is, 
to  root  out,  eradicate,  abolish,  obliterate,  not  the 
evils,  but  the  sin  of  the  world. 

I  wish  to  say  here,  in  iDarenthesis,  that  what 
He  proposes  to  deal  with  is  not  penalty,  but  sin. 
I  have  but  a  languid  interest  in  the  discussions, 
profound  as  they  have  been,  of  the  way  in  which 
the  Saviour  makes  atonement  for  men's  guilt.  I 
think  the  guilt  will  take  care  of  itself  in  any 
/  case,  where  the  sin  is  exterminated.  The  bottom 
.  fact  is  that  the  moral  recovery  of  a  sinner  carries 
with  it,  of  necessity,  the  taking  away  of  his  guilt. 
As  to  the  penalty  which  such  a  sinner  may  bear, 
whether  in  this  world  or  the  next,  if  his  sinful- 
ness be  actually  cured,  he  will  not  regard  such 
penalty  as  a  misfortune. 

Now,  tlie  first  thing  to  be  noticed,  is  that  Jesus 
has  in  some  strange  way  got  Himself  believed. 
There  is  no  fundamental  conviction  more  univer- 
sal in  Christendom,  than  that  there  is  "a  good 
time  coming."  I  say  a  good  time.  Not  a  happy 
A^  >'  time ;  but  a  time  when  goodness  shall  cover  the 
earth.  It  is  noteworthy  that  the  whole  pagan 
world  has  its  good  time  behind  it.  It  looks  back- 
ward to  the  goklen  age  ;  Christianity  looks  for- 
ward. It  does  so  because  the  Master  has,  in 
_,  some  strange  way,  been  able  to  infuse  His  own 


BANISHING  SIN.  11 

confidence  in  humanity's  moral  future.  This 
hopefulness  has  taken  strange  and  grotesque 
forms,  to  be  sure.  Men  have  dreamed  of  a  mil- 
lennium this  year,  or  this  century,  or  at  some 
fixed  time  in  the  Christian  centuries.  They  have 
portrayed  a  millennial  period  Avhich  would  have 
but  small  attraction  to  the  average  man.  But 
with  it  all  there  has  been,  and  is,  throughout  tlje 
Christian  peoples  an  irrefragable  belief  that  sin 
will  end. 

I  do  not  stop  to  ask  by  what  means  the  Master 
has  been  able  to  infect  Christendom  with  this 
new   hope.     But    I    ask.  What  are  the   means 
which  He  announces  to  bring  it  about  ?  and  what 
are  the  present  indications    of    His  success  or 
failure  ?    In  a  word,  how  does  He  propose  to  do 
it  and   how  is  He  succeeding  ?    The  answer  is 
found  by  looking  at  His  definition  of  sin.     A 
physician's  cure  depends  upon    his  diagnosis. 
Jesus'  diagnosis  was  something  new.     He  declares 
that  sin  is  a  personal  matter  between  a  personal 
God  and  a  personal  soul.     It  is  the  breaking  of  a 
friendship  ;  it  is  the  loss  of  confidence  ;  it  is  the 
cessation  of  intercourse.     If  the  estranged  friends 
could   be  brought  together  and   the  misunder- 
standing between  them  corrected,  the  rest  will 
take  care  of  itself.     The  first  term  of  His  religion 
is    "our    Father."      Whoever  says    the   Lord's 
Prayer  with  understanding  breaks  at  once  with  , 
the  whole  ethnic  conception  of  sin.     To  that  con-'  \ 
ception,  sin  is  a  broken  statute  ;  Jesus  says  it  is_ 


:^ 


12  BANISHING  SIN. 

~  an  outraged  affection.     Now,  a  broken  statute 
Y  can  never  be  mended ;  a  broken  affection  can  be 
'  recemented,  with  difficulty,  to  be  sure,  but  it  can 
be  done,  and  where  it  is  fully  done  the  broken 
place  is  likely  to  be  stronger  than  any  other  por- 
tion of  the  fabric.     He  hopes,  therefore,  for  the 
eradication  of  human  sin  by  the  slow,  yet  sure, 
developing  of  the  consciousness  in  every  man  that 
he  is  a  child  of  God,  and  that  while  he  needs  God, 
God,  if  possible,  still  more    needs  him.      The 
Christian  rests  his    hope  of  salvation  not  pri- 
marily in  the  fact  that  he  will  perish  apart  from 
,God,  but  that  God's  affection  must  suffer  forever 
-_ until  He  "bring  His  children  home  again." 

How  is  He  succeeding  ?  The  reply  is,  look  with 
open  eyes  at  the  world  as  it  is  to-day  ;  with  all 
its  evils,  its  miseries,  its  misfortunes — in  a  word, 
with  all  its  sin.  Then  close  your  eyes  and  open 
them  again  upon  the  same  world  three  centuries 
ago,  ten  centuries  ago,  twenty  centuries  ago. 
Each  view  that  one  takes  of  humanity  as  a  whole 
at  these  successive  periods  shows  within  it  a  slow 
but  steady,  unfaltering  progress  in  all  those 
tilings  that  mal^e  for  human  welfare,  but  pre- 
eminently above  them  all  in  that  one  thing 
upon  which  human  welfare  rests — that  is, 
righteousness. 


III. 

CHRIST,  HIS  OWN  MASTER. 

"  Bow  wbcn  be  was  In  Jerusalem  at  tbe  passover,  in 
tbe  fcastsDag,  many  believeD  in  bis  name,  wben  tbeg 
saw  tbe  miracles  wbicb  be  DiO.  JSut  Jesus  DiD  not 
commit  bimselt  unto  tbem."— John  ii.  23. 

He  did  not  commit  Himself  unto  them,  It~~ 
would  have  been  most  unfortunate  if  He  had  ; 
notwithstanding  the  fact  that  they  believed  on 
Him,  and  no  doubt  would  have  been  willing  to 
give  Him  loyal  service.  It  is  always  a  dangerous 
thing  for  one  to  commit  himself  to  any  set  of  men. 
No  error  has  been  more  persistent  in  the  history.  ' 
of  Christianity  than  the  notion  that  either  certain 
particular  creeds  of  Christians,  or  even  the  Chris- 
tian Church  as  a  whole,  had  come  into  a  monop- 
olistic possession  of  the  Master.  No  Church, 
no  creed,  no  confession  of  faith  possesses  Christ. 

To  the  extent  that  they  are  true  He  possesses 

them. 

The  feeling  very  widespread  just  now  in  the 
Christian  world  is  that  it  is  necessary  to  search 
for  Christ  within  Christianity  ;  that  He  has  been  v, 
overlaid,  obscured,  and  in  certain  regards  mis- A 
represented  by  the  institutions  and  confessions 
which  profess  to   publish  Him.     No  charge  of 

13 


14  CHRIST,  HIS  OWN  MASTER. 

■"dishonesty  or  insincerity  is  brouglit  or  need 
be  brought  against  the  institutions.  They  are 
acting  in  perfect  good  faith,  and  this  not- 
withstanding the  Christian  feeling  of  our  time 
has  decided  to  subject  them  all  to  a  re-examina- 
tion. The  cry  of  the  age  is,  "Back  to  Jesus." 
Last  week  the  man  died  who  in  our  time  first 
raised  this  cry.  1  The  author  of  "Ecce  Homo" 
set  out  upon  the  enterprise  of  going  straight 
through  the  existing  Christian  beliefs  and  insti- 
tutions to  find  the  man  Jesus  Christ.  No  book 
y  has  to  the.  same  extent  colored  the  religious 
thought  of  the  modern  world.',  It  has  been  fol- 
lowed at  quite  a  late  day  by  others  springing 
from  the  same  motive.  "The  Programme  of 
Jesus,"  "Christianity  According  to  Christ," 
"Christ  and  His  Interpreters,"  "  The  Gosj^el  and 
Its  Interpreters,"  "The  Great  Discourse,"  and  a 
hundred  other  volumes  might  be  named,  all  ad- 
dressed to  the  same  end.  They  spring  out  of  the 
diffused   feeling  that   Christ  has  been  lost  in 

..Christianity  and  must  be  sought  for  anew. 
Now,   not  a    few  hotly    deny    the  premises. 
They  regard  the  whole  movement  as  an  abandon- 
ment of  "the  faith  once  for  all  delivered  to  the 
saints."     They  look  upon  it  as  a  modern  craze 

Vwhich  has  in  it  much  of  irreverence,  if  not  of 
blasphemy.  The  monk  Ignatius  rails  at  Dr. 
Gore  and  his  associates  in  "Lux  Mundi." 
Bishop  McLaren  advocates  "Dogma  as  the 
Antidote  of  Doubt." 


CHRIST,  HIS  OWN  MASTER.  15 

It  does  not  much  matter  whether  the  reason 
assigned  for  tlie  movement  be  valid  or  not ; 
the  movement  itself  is  a  fact  to  be  taken  ac- 
count of. 

Now,  it  is  trne  that  the  Church  has  throughout"" 
its  whole  history  been  at  least  nominally  organ- 
ized around  the  person  of  Jesus.  There  never 
has  been  a  time  wiien  it  would  have  hesitated  to 
assert  that  its  purpose  was  to  present  Christ  to 
humanity.  But  it  is  quite  true,  as  a  matter  of 
history,  that  it  has  at  certain  times  and  places 
put  something  else  before  Him.  For  instance, 
the  more  enthusiastic  Athanasians  of  the  fourth 
century  laid  emphasis  upon  the  doctrine  of 
Christ,  rather  than  on  the  person  of  Christ.  A 
thousand  years  later  the  Knights  of  the  Temple 
placed  military  glory  before  their  real  Master,  x  \ 
The  Society  of  Jesus  did  the  like  with  the  Papacy.  -\  A 
Lutherans  did  the  same  thing  with  the  doctrine 
of  "justification  by  faith."  The  Calvinists  did 
the  same  thing  with  a  system.  The  Church  of 
England  did  the  same  with  its  polity  and  liturgy. 
Modern  times  have  added  to  all  these  a  thousand 
other  things,  originally  meant  to  be  presentations 
of  the  Master,  but  which  have  accumulated  to 
such  an  extent  that  the  personality  of  Christ  is 
thought  to  be  concealed  behind  them.  The  cur- 
rent conception  of  the  place  and  function  of  the 
Holy  Scripture  has  tended  to  the  same  end. 
Instead  of  thinking  of  the  Bible  as  being  inspired 
by  Christ,  it  has  come  to  be  generally  thought  of— 


\ 


XX 


16  CHRIST,  HIS   OWN  MASTER. 

as  a  book  inspired  from  outside,  whose  purpose 
is  to  describe  or  present  Him. 

All  these  together  have  set  the  earnest-minded 
Christian  people  of  our  own  day  to  the  task  of 
recovering  Christ  from  the  superincumbent  mass 
of  doctrine,  poetry,  polity,  romance,  and  dogma 
which  they  believe  to  hide  Him.  It  is  this  feel- 
ing which  lies  at  the  root  of  all  historical  criticism, 
all  Biblical  criticism,  all  Palestinian  exploration, 
all  the  Lives  of  Christ. 

Two  questions  then  arise :  First,  is  this 
attempt  a  legitimate  one  ?  Second,  does  it 
promise  to  be  a  successful  one?  Its  legitimacy 
can  only  be  established  by  exj^eriment.  There  is 
no  question  of  the  fact  that  thousands  of  earnest- 
minded  followers  of  Christ  do  not  find  themselves 
at  home  either  in  the  Church  or  the  dogmas  of 
Christ.  Of  course,  it  is  open  to  anyone  to  say 
that  this  is  their  fnult  or  their  misfortune.  It 
may  be  so  ;  but  the  fact  remains  the  same.  It  is 
probably  true,  also,  that  this  search  for  Christ 
may  be  simply  a  mistaken  intellectual  curiosity, 
wliich  would  not  find  any  great  value  in  Christ, 
even  if  it  should  discover  Him  by  this  method. 
But  no  one  can  question  that  a  considerable 
number  of  men  and  women,  to  whom  the  name 
Christian  cannot  and  ought  not  to  be  denied,  are 
waiting  with  more  or  less  hopefulness  for  the 
outcome  of  the  investigation  which  is  now  pro- 
ceeding. I  think  their  attitude  is  not  a  right 
one,  nor,  indeed,  an  honorable  one.     It  would  be 


CHRIST,  HIS   OWN  MASTER.  17 

better  for  them  to  join  the  Church  and  assist  it  in 
its  search  for  truth  ;  this  would  be  better  than  to 
stand  outside  waiting  to  take  and  appropriate 
truth  which  has  cost  them  nothing. 

But  tilings  are  as  they  are.  I  believe  myself 
that  this  cry  "Back  to  Jesus"  is  legitimate.  I 
believe,  also,  that  it  will  ultimately  accrue  to  the 
untold  benefit  of  the  organized  Church.  It  is  not 
altogether  an  unprecedented  thing.  From  time 
to  time  during  the  Christian  centuries  a  similar 
mood  has  seized  the  Christian  world,  and  the 
outcome  of  it  has  always  been  good.  I  think 
also  that  the  outcome  of  this  will  be  good.  I 
think  it  has  been  good  already.  It  will  issue,  as 
it  seems  to  me,  in  a  truer  and  more  vivid  concep- 
tion of  the  personality  of  the  Master.  It  will 
give  truer  and  more  wholesome  notions  about 
God.  It  will  result,  practically,  in  a  better  feel- 
ing toward  all  men,  and  especially  toward  them 
of  the  household  of  faith.  It  is  true  that  the 
quest  of  the  Holy  Grail  has  not  always  found 
the  precise  thing  it  sought.  But  those  who 
pricked  forth  with  pure  heart  in  such  discovery 
have  always  been  rewarded  by  finding  some 
precious  treasure. 


IV. 

THE  USE  OF  PAIN. 

"  ff or  we  ftnovv  tbat  tbe  wbole  creation  ciroanetb,  anD 
travailctb  in  pain  togctbcr  until  now  :  BnD  not  onl's  tbc)\ 
but  ouri3clvc6  also,  wbicb  bavc  tbe  firstsfruits  of  tbc 
Spirit,  even  we  ourselves  groan  witbin  ourselves,  waitinii 
for  tbc  adoption,  to  wit,  tbc  reDctnption  of  our  boDg,"— 

Romans  viii.  22,  23. 

The  Christian  minister  is  constantly  called 
upon  to  witness  suffering.  He  has  to  see  people 
in  sickness,  in  pain,  in  distress.  He  has  not  the 
satisfaction  which  the  physician  possesses  of 
being  able  to  cure  pain,  or  even  to  give  an 
anodyne.  The  most  that  is  within  his  power  is 
to  call  upon  certain  resources  within  the  person 
suffering  as  well  as  without  ;  to  recommend 
patience,  stimulate  hope,  and  strengthen  the 
power  of  endurance.  After  he  has  done  all  this 
he  usually  leaves  the  house  with  a  feeling  of 
profound  dissatisfaction.  As  he  walks  home  he 
is  apt  to  ask  himself  the  meaning,  use,  and  pur- 
pose of  pain.  He  does  not  find  the  answer  as 
readily  forthcoming  as  is  to  be  desired.  He  is 
not  concerned  with  the  problem  of  "the  origin 
of  evil."  He  is  willing  to  leave  that  to  the  phil- 
osophers.    But  what  presses  upon  him  is  that 

18 


THE   USE  OF  PAIN.  19 

feeling  which  comes  to  a  religious  man  who 
believes  in  God  and  in  God's  goodness,  and  who 
sympathizes  with  his  fellow-man,  which  compels 
liim  to  ask  what  all  this  pain  is  for. 

The  thing  that  overwhelms  him  is  its  bulk ; 
there  is  so  much  of  it.  There  are  pains  of  the 
body  and  pangs  of  the  heart  and  distress  of  the 
soul.  Then  again,  the  evil  effect  of  pain  seems 
to  be  out  of  proportion  to  its  magnitude.  A 
twinge  will  spoil  all  physical  surroundings.  A 
vexation  will  take  the  zest  out  of  the  best 
planned  day.  A  heartache  will  make  the  sun- 
shine sickly.  It  is  like  some  dark  pigment  with 
an  infinite  power  of  diffusion  ;  a  single  drop  of  it 
in  the  water  of  one's  life  will  discolor  the  whole 
contents.  It  is  a  thing  with  which  religion  is 
much  concerned.  The  sufferer  has  a  right  to 
look  to  Christianity  for  something  ;  indeed,  it 
does  turn  to  the  Master  with  special  hopefulness 
in  this  particular  regard.  It  turns  to  Him  as  to 
a  man  "  acquainted  with  grief."  He  is  supposed 
to  be  familiar  with  it,  and  therefore  to  have 
something  to  say. 

Before  listening,  however,  to  what  He  has  to 
say,  it  may  be  well  to  ask  what  the  world  has 
been  able  to  say  without  Him.  First,  then,  one 
can  see  the  inevitableness  of  pain.  It  is  the 
price  wldch  must  be  paid  for  tlie  capacity  to  A 
enjoy.  As  there  can  be  no  light  without  corre- 
sponding shadow,  the  very  conception  of  pleas- 
ure is  impossible  without  the  idea  of  pain  in  the 


XX 


20  THE   USE   OF  PAIN. 

background.  It  is  the  necessary  condition  of 
the  capacity  to  feel.  Everyone  can  see  that 
just  as  delicacy  and  sensibility  increases,  so  the 
caj)acity  to  suffer  increases. 

In  the  second  place,  anyone  can  see  that  it  is 
not  the  peiuilty  of  sin,  and  that  in  large  part  it  is 
not  even  the  consequence  of  sin.  Pain  would 
have  been  one  of  the  facts  of  life  wlietlier  Adam 
had  eaten  the  apple  or  not,  even  if  there  had 
been  no  apple  or  no  Adam.  It  is  rooted  in  the 
nature  of  things.  It  is  quite  true  that  a  very 
considerable  amount  of  it  can  be  directly  traced 
to  sin  ;  but  relatively  this  portion  of  it  is  small. 
Tlie  Old  Testament  idea  that  it  is  portioned  out 
to  men  in  proportion  to  their  wrong-doing  is  an 
idea  that  was  practically  abandoned  long  before 
our  Lord  gave  it  its  death-blow.  "Those  upon 
whom  the  tower  of  Siloam  fell  were  not  sinners 
_  above  all  that  dwelt  in  Jerusalem." 

In  the  third  place,  we  can  see  that  it  is  the 
schoolmaster  of  love.  When  one  seriously  at- 
tempts to  imagine  a  world  in  which  no  pain  is, 
he  is  compelled  to  see  a  world  in  which  no  love 
is.  There  would  be  no  place  in  such  a  world 
for  any  kindly  interchange  of  sympathy,  and 
where  no  sympathy  is  possible  no  affection  is 
possible.  Charity,  patience,  tenderness,  forti- 
tude would  be  words  without  a  meaning  in 
sucli  a  world. 
,  Now,  all  this  is  very  valuable.  It  is  the  sum  of 
'^  all  the  wisdom  upon  the  subject  from  Job  to  Mr. 


\ 


THE  USE  OP  PAIN.  21 

Spencer.     But  the  practical  eflBciency  of  it  is  oiil}^ 
to  enable  one  to  bear  liis  neighbor's   i)ain  with  . 
equanimity.      The    most    serene  j^hilosopher  of-V 
this  sort  will  always  find  his  philosophy  put  to 
rout  by  so  little  as  a  toothache. 

Tlie  ministry  of  consolation  must  have  some-~ 
thing  better  to  say.  What  is  the  Master's  word 
on  the  question?  First,  it  is  that  suffering  is  any 
inevitable  necessity  both  for  God  and  for  man.^ 
Nothing  could  be  more  unreasonable  or  untrue 
than  the  popular  notion  that  God  is  "  without 
passions."  That  statement  could  only  be  made 
truthfully  of  Brahm,  not  of  God.  "It  is  not 
the  will  of  your  Father  which  is  in  Heaven." 
The  father  sitting  at  home  and  following  the 
prodigal  with  his  eye,  must  needs  bear  an  ach- 
ing heart.  God  does  not  "willingly  afflict  or 
grieve  the  children  of  men."  Jesus,  by  thus 
binding  up  God  and  man  together,  in  a  com- 
munity of  i^ain,  binds  them  together  in  a  com- 
munity of  sympath}^.  For  when  men  in  suffei"- 
ing  come  fairly  to  see  that  they  are  enduring  the 
experience  of  God  Himself,  they  find  the  moral 
sting  taken  out  of  their  torture,  and  are  to  that 
extent  the  better  able  to  bear  it. 

Second,  it  is  His  revelation  that  it  is  the  out-'" 
come  of  God's  good  purpose  for  His  family,  and  V 
is,   therefore,  not   distributed  according   to  per- 
sonal dessert.    His  teaching  is,  that  it  is  laid  upon 
each  one  in  such  way  as  is  best,  upon  the  whole, 
for  the  good  of  all.     But  He  has  a  large  outlook — 


Xk 


22  THE  USE   OF  PAIN. 

It  is  quite  natural  that  the  one  upon  whom  the 
burden  is  hiid  should  groan  under  it,  fret  under 
it,  and  maybe  rebel  under  it.  It  does  not  greatly 
matter.  If  a  soldier  in  an  army  is  told  off  for  a 
painful  duty,  he  is  not,  as  a  rule,  told  whatihis 
duty  is  for.  It  is  simply  his  business  to  do  the 
duty  and  to  suffer  whatever  it  may  involve. 
There  are  large  plans  concerned,  and  if  it  be 
necessary  to  sacrifice  him  for  the  attainment  of 
the  i)lans,  sacrificed  he  must  be ;  and  that  is  the 
best  use  to  which  he  can  be  put.  Hence  pain  is 
in  large  part  vicarious.  It  is  vicarious,  even 
when  the  subject  of  it  is  not  aware  that  he  is  suf- 
fering for  others,  and  quite  likely  has  no  heart 
to  endure  such  sufferings  for  them.  The  truth 
is,  if  there  were  no  good  things  done  by  men  in 
this  world  except  the  things  which  they  them- 
selves choose  to  do,  there  would  be  far  less  of 
them  done  than  there  actually  are.  But  in  ^h- 
wisdom,  as  well  as  in  the  goodness  of  God,  .iien 
are  made  to  serve  His  ultimate  purposes  in  ^jite 
of  themselves.     It  all  resolves  itself  into  the  doc- 

^  trine  of  the  Cross. 

Jesus'  conception  is,  in  a  word,  that  God  deals 
with  us  as  we  deal  with  our  children.  We  allow 
the  child  to  burn  his  fingers  that  he  may  dis- 
cover the  nature  and  property  of  fire,  and  so  niny 

X  not  burn  his  whole  body.  We  take  aw  ay  liis 
treasures  sometimes,  even  though  he  screams. 
We  bathe  him  in  spite  of  all  his  protests.  If 
necessary,  we  lay  upon  one  child  a  burden  or  a 


THE   USE   OF  PAIN.  23 


painful   duty,   wliich   is  not   particularly  to  liis 
benefit,  but  which  is  for  the  good  of  the  house-, 
hold.     Jesus  regards  us  as  children  in  a  house-'^ 
hold,  and  around  us  He  declares  to  be  the  ever- 
lasting arms  of  His  Father. 


THE  MARKET  VALUE  OF  A  SOUL. 

"  Mbat  is  a  man  profitcD,  it  be  sball  gain  tbe  wbole 
worlD,  aiiD  loec  bis  own  soul  ?    ®r  wbat  sball  a  man  give 

in  CJCbange  for  bis  soul  ?  "—Matthew  xvi.  26. 

There  are,  in  fact,  only  two  ideals  of  living. 
)(  The   one  is  to  attain   secure   possession   of    all 
those  good  things  which  the  senses  take  account 
of,  and  which  the  understanding  can  weigh  and 
measure.     They  are  such  things  as  health,  wealth, 
leisure,  luxury — in  a  word,  a  comfortable  life  in 
Y  general.     The  other  ideal  is  to  postpone,  or  at 
^  least  to  subordinate,  these  things  to  the  purpose 
of  securing  that  inward  peace  and  sense  of  satis- 
faction, which  oomes  from  a  right  adjustment  of 
one's  life  to  God  without  and  within  one.     In  a 
word,  this  is  what  the  Scripture  calls  "eternal 
life."     I   think   that   a  peculiar  quality  of   our 
present  time  is  the  outspoken  frankness  with 
which  men  accept  the  first  of  these  ideals  and  de- 
clare that  it  is  sufficient  for   them.     Time  was 
when  everybody  felt  bound  to  speak  with  pro- 
found consideration  of  the  other  ideal,  whether 
he  chose  it  for  himself  or  not.     But  that  seems, 
to  some  extent,  to  have  passed  away,  and  it  is 
openly  avowed  by  not  a  few,  that  this  life  is  best 
administered  when  it  is  least  distracted  by  any 

24 


THE  MARKET  VALUE   OF  A  SOUL.  25 

considerations  drawn  from  any  other  possible" 
life.  To  put  it  plainly,  they  have  made  up  their 
mind  to  secure  the  world  in  part-or  in  whole,  and 
to  let  the  soul  take  care  of  itself.  There  is  some 
jastilication  for  this,  for  it  really  does  seem  with 
each  generation  to  become  more  possible  to  actu- 
ally secure  such  a  grip  upon  the  good  things  of 
life  that  one  can  say  with  some  certainty  to  his 
soul :  "  Eat,  drink,  and  be  merry  ;  for  I  have  laid 
up  for  thee  much  goods  for  many  days."  If 
you  follow,  then,  these  two  ideals  to  their  con- 
clusion, the  ultimate  alternative  which  presents 
itself  to  every  man  is,  Will  he  seek  the  world,  or 
will  he  look  out  for  his  soul  ?  The  striking  thing 
about  Jesus'  word  on  this  i^oint  is  that  He  raises 
these  alternatives  to  their  highest  terms.  As 
mathematicians  would  say,  He  contrasts  two)<[ 
modes  of  life,  raising  each  to  the  nth  power.  -^ 

Let  us  look  at  these  two  modes,  then,  for  a 
little.  He  puts  it  in  the  form  of  a  commercial 
question :  Will  it  profit  a  man  if  he  gain  even 
the  whole  world  and  pay  the  price  of  it  with  his 
soul  ?  It  might,  indeed,  seem  to  be  a  fairly  good 
bargain,  for  few  people  realize  what  extraordi- 
nary power  of  gratification  the  world  actually 
possesses.  In  order  to  see  it  more  clearly,  sup- 
pose we  take  that  thing  which  really  does  stand 
for  it  in  actual  use — money.  Few  people  realize  V 
what  money  can  buy.  Of  course  it  can  buy  ease 
and  physical  comfort  ;  that  goes  without  saying, 
and  I  waste  no  time  upon  it.     But  it  can  buy_ 


26  THE   MARKET  VALUE   OF  A  SOUL. 

"mucli  higher  things.  It  can  buy  intellectual 
develox)ment.  It  can  give  the  opportunity  to 
acquire  high  and  noble  tastes.  It  can  give  leis- 
ure for  research.  It  can  make  the  mind  greater. 
And  it  can  do  far  more  than  that ;  It  can  buy 
length  of  days.  Who  can  estimate  how  many 
lives  come  untimely  to  an  end  because  their  pos- 
sessors are  not  able  to  procure  for  themselves 
either  that  costly  medical  and  surgical  skill,  or 
that  optportunity  for  change  of  climate  and 
scenery  which  would  prolong  their  lives  ?  With 
money  they  can  live  ;  without  money,  they  die. 
V  And  it  can  do  even  more  than  this  ;  It  can  buy 
^  love.  There  is  an  old  proverb  that  "when  pov- 
erty comes  in  at  the  door,  love  Hies  out  at  the 
window."  Anyone  who  has  seen  much  of  the 
inside  of  the  households  of  the  poor  must  have 
been  saddened  by  a  certain  hardness,  and  lack  of 
affectionate  expression  which  is  not  allowed  op- 
portunity, in  consequence  of  the  absorption  of 
their  lives  in  the  hard  struggle  for  existence. 
Wealth,  then,  can  buy  love  ;  not  directly,  but 
indirectly,  by  securing  to  human  beings  that  at- 
mosphere and  surrounding  in  which  so  delicate 
a  plant  as  human  love  alone  can  blossom  and 
__bear  fruit  to  perfection. 

Now,  one  would  think  that  to  whatever  extent 
he  secures  and  guarantees  to  himself  the  world, 
he  guarantees,  to  that  extent,  his  own  well- 
being.  And  if  he  should  be  able  to  secure  the 
absolute  possession  of  all  that  the  world  can  give, 


THE  MARKET   VALUE   OF  A   SOUL.  27 

he  would  have  guaranteed  himself  against  prac- 
tically all  disasters — except  the  final  one  of 
dying,  which  is  inevitable  in  any  case.  Jesus 
does  not  deny  this.  He  does  not  deny  the  possi- 
bility of  attaining  practically  unlimited  worldly 
good.  Nor  does  he  doubt  its  legitimacy.  But 
he  calls  attention  to  a  very  grave  peril  which 
attends  upon  this  ideal  of  life. 

The  jperil  is  that  of  "losing  one's  soul."  It^ 
may  be  well  to  stop  for  a  moment  to  say  that  by 
the  soul  is  meant,  roughly  speaking,  that  quality 
or  faculty  in  man  which  apprehends  God  and 
goodness.  Jesus'  strange  assumption  is  that 
this  faculty  may  be  lost.  He  uses  the  Avord  in 
the  same  way  that  we  use  it  when  we  speak  of  a 
man  losing  his  reason  or  losing  his  temper  or 
losing  his  memory.  It  is  not  the  result  of  a 
judicial  condemnation  that  he  has  before  him  at 
all  ;  it  is  the  actual  fact  of  the  disappearance  of  ^  ^ 
a  faculty.  I  know  tliat  there  is  a  notion  cur-  /^  /^ 
rent  that  "losing  one's  soul"  is  an  expression 
equivalent  to  being  damned.  It  is  nothing  of 
the  sort.  It  is  a  biological  process  that  is 
referred  to,  and  not  a  judicial  one.  Everybody 
is  familiar  with  the  operation  of  this  process  in 
the  individual  faculties  of  the  soul.  One  knows 
perfectly  what  it  is  to  have  an  affection  gradually 
wane  and.  vanish  ;  to  have  an  accomplishment, 
which  he  had  gained  at  great  pains,  little  by  little 
disappear  for  want  of  practice;  to  have  any  mental 
or  emotional  capacity  die  out  for  want  of  use.      ^- 


XX 


28      THE  MARKET  VALUE  OF  A  SOUL. 

Wlmt  Jesus,  then,  has  in  mind  is  that  the 
soul,  which  is  the  sum  total  of  all  the  higher 
faculties,  has  in  it  this  terrible  possibility  of 
gradually  dying  out  and  disappearing.  You 
will  see  at  once  that  this  awful  catastrophe 
needs  no  machinery  of  damnation.  It  is  auto- 
matic. It  works  of  itself  and  it  goes  to  its  own 
-.end. 

There  are  not  a  few  people  who  seem  to  be 
dimly  conscious  of  the  fact  that  they  are  losing 
something,  but  they  do  not  quite  know  what  it 
is.  I  have  heard  men  and  women  again  and 
again  deplore  their  incapacity  to  understand  or 
sympathize  with  religious  things.  They  are  very 
y  V  apt  to  attribute  this  to  what  they  call  the  "diffi- 
^  culties  of  faith,"  such  as  miracles,  an  unnatural 
and  stilted  mode  of  life,  or  what  not.  Some- 
times, no  doubt,  that  is  the  true  explanation, 
but  I  cannot  avoid  believing  that  in  many  cases 
the  explanation  is  that  they  have  already  begun 
to  lose  their  spiritual  faculties.  The  process  of 
^losing  their  souls  is  already  well  under  way. 

This,  then,  being  the  situation,  how  is  it  possi- 
ble for  one  to  "save"  his  soul?  or  to  regain  it 
if  it  be  partly  lost,  or  damaged  ?  Right  at  this 
point,  in  theory,  at  least,  comes  in  the  place  and 
A  function  of  the  Church.  It  is  meant  to  be  a 
spiritual  gymnasium,  or  a  well  conducted  house 
within  which  all  the  inmates  carry  forward  their 
lives  upon  sane  and  wholesome  methods  of  food 
and  exercise.     It  does  not  always,  by  any  means. 


THE  MARKET  VALUE   OF  A  SOUL.  29 

fulfill    this  ideal.      It    is   speaking  within    the 
truth,    liowever,  to  say  that  it  fulfills  it  better 
than  any  other  institution  that  I  am  aware  ofy 
fulfills  its  purpose.     It  comes  more  nearly  doing'^ 
its  work  tlian  the  State  does  in  securing  justice,  or 
than  social  arrangements  do  in  securing  equity. 

Jesus,  then,  does  not  create  the  facts  with 
which  he  deals  ;  He  only  calls  attention  to  them. 
That,  indeed,  is  sufficient ;  for  whenever  one  gets 
fairly  before  his  mind  what  the  actual  facts  of 
the  case  are,  Jesus  rests  serenely  in  the  convic- 
tion that  such  a  man  will  act  as  He  would  have 
him  act. 

Of  course  there  is  another  method  of  dealing— 
with  this  whole  subject  which  many  practically 
attempt :  that  is,  to  secure,  if  possible,  both 
worlds — either  one  at  a  time,  or  one  after  the 
other.  This  process,  however,  has  never  been 
found  to  be  satisfactory,  either  by  the  persons 
who  try  it  or  by  the  keen  observers  who  watch 
them  attempt  it.  It  is  impossible  in  the  nature^ 
of  the  case,  for  existence  every  where,  and  always, 
depends  upon  character,  and  character  ultimately 
depends  upon  choice.  Only  those  will  live  and 
go  on  living  who  are  capable  of  life  ;  and  if  the 
faculties  of  the  soul  one  by  one  disappear,  that 
is  the  end.  There  is  nothing  then  left  to  live  for. 
The  goal  to  be  striven  for  by  each  individual  is  to_ 
so  live 

' '  That  your  life  be  not  destroyed, 
Or  cast  as  rubbish  to  the  void, 
Wheu  God  doth  make  his  pile  complete." 


VI. 
BEARING  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  BURDENS. 

**  JSear  ge  one  anotber's  burDens,  anO  so  fulfill  tbc  law 

of  Cbrl0t."— Galatians  vi.  3. 

I  WISH  to  speak  a  little  about  the  Christian 
law  as  to  the  use  of  wealth.  I  do  not  speak 
either  to  the  rich  or  the  poor.  The  truth  is  there 
is  no  such  distinction  ;  and  one  of  the  worst 
possible  things  is  for  people  to  get  the  idea  that 
there  is  one  law  for  the  rich  and  another  for  the 
poor.  The  law  is  the  same,  whether  a  man  has 
an  income  of  a  million  or  an  income  of  a  hundred 
dollars.  The  question  is,  how  should  the  con- 
sistent Clirisf,iaii  use  his  wealth,  be  it  great  or 
small,  in  the  presence  of  the  fact  that  there  are 
always  other  people  who  need  it  worse  than  he 
does  ?  I  take  it  for  granted  that  I  speak  to 
Christian  people — that  is  to  say,  to  those  who 
really  wish  to  know  what  their  duty  is  in  a  per- 
plexing matter,  with  the  intent  to  do  it  as  best 
they  may. 
Now,  in  the  Old  Testament  the  law  was  very 
-^simple.  It  said,  in  effect,  that  a  man  might  ac- 
-^  cumulate  all  the  wealth  he  pleased  and  hold  it 
for  his  own,  without  reference  to  anybody  else, 

30 


BEARING  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  BURDENS.  31 

provided  he  first  paid  out  of  it  a  tithe  of  one-"* 
tenth.  All  the  rest  of  it  was  his  own.  Neither 
the  state  nor  the  Church  nor  the  poor  had  any 
moral  claim  upon  it  whatsoever.  A  few  foolish 
persons  advocate  the  restoration  within  the 
Christian  Church  of  the  "  tithe  system."  They 
forget,  however,  that  it  was  a  mechanical  device 
which  cannot  possibly  operate  within  the  free .  . 
institutions  of  Christianity.  It  was  abolished -\ /\ 
with  the  rest  of  the  system  of  which  it  formed  a 
part.  And  besides  that  it  was  inherently  unjust. 
Ten  per  cent,  of  the  income  of  a  family  which 
has  a  thousand  dollars  a  year  is  a  very  much 
greater  thing  than  ten  per  cent,  of  the  income  of 
a  family  which  has  a  hundred  thousand  a  year. 
The  first,  if  it  gives  it,  must  give  it  out  of  neces- 
sities ;  the  second  can  give  it  out  of  superfluity 

But  what  rule  or  law,  if  any,  has  taken  its 
place  ?  Is  it  left  for  the  Christian  to  do  as  he 
pleases  in  the  matter?  I  reply,  it  is  left  to 
him  to  do  as  he  pleases.  But  Christianity  gives 
him  a  few  very  simple,  but  very  profound,  princi- 
ples which  are  expected  to  show  him  what  he 
ought  to  please  to  do.  The  difficulty  is  this  :Xn 
The  Christian  man  or  woman,  especially  the  one 
who  has  a  comfortable  income,  wishes  to  do  what 
is  right,  in  order  that,  having  done  so,  he  or  she 
may  enjoy  the  remainder  of  their  income  without 
the  haunting  sense  that  somebody  else  begrudges 
it  to  them,  or  that  they  are  possibly  retaining 
for  their  own  use  something  which  in  the  sights 


X 


32  BEARING  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  BURDENS. 

of  God  belongs  to  others.  They  ask,  and  they 
have  a  right  to  ask,  by  what  means  they  can  be 
X  free  to  enjoy  themselves  w^ith  a  v^^hole  heart  and 
with  a  good  conscience.  What  must  they  first 
do  to  purchase  for  themselves  this  right? 

The  difficulties  are  very  great.  In  the  first 
place,  the  necessity  of  the  human  race  is  so  bitter. 
There  are  so  many  poor,  and  they  are  so  very 
poor,  that  the  mere  sight  of  the  magnitude  of 
the  necessity  which  ought  to  be  relieved  is  very 
likely  to  fill  each  individual  with  despair.  He 
says  to  himself  in  fact :  "  I  will  not  try  to  do  any- 
thing, because,  let  me  do  the  best  I  possibly  can, 
it  will  have  no  more  effect,  practically,  in  lessening 
the  sum  total  of  misery  than  it  would  lessen  the 
bulk  of  the  Atlantic  if  I  should  dip  a  pailful 
from  it,  or  change  the  Great  Desert  into  a  garden 
if  I  should  pour  a  cup  of  water  upon  a  corner 
of  it." 

Besides  that,  men  who  are  at  once  charitable 
V  and  clear-sighted  are  oppressed  at  the  inefficiency 
of  alms-giving  as  it  is.  There  are  more  than 
six  hundred  charitable  institutions  in  this  city. 
They  are  being  increased  in  number  and  extent 
every  day.  Over  and  above  these  voluntary 
ones,  the  State  itself  professes  to  relieve  all  actual 
necessity.  In  spite  of  them  nil,  however,  one 
cannot  see  that  there  are  any  fewer  persons  suf- 
fering, or  that  in  the  main  they  suffer  less  than 
they  would  if  all  these  were  abolished.  I  do 
not  say  that  this  is  true,  but  it  is  an  impression 


BEARING  OTHER  PEOPLES  BURDENS.  33 

which  is  ahnost  inevitably  created  by  what  one 
sees.  Then,  again,  poverty  is  so  entangled  with 
vice.  No  one  would  intimate,  of  course,  that 
one  is  vicious  because  one  is  poor,  but  the  con- 
verse is  very  likely  to  be  true,  that  he  is  poor 
because  either  he  or  somebody  else  is  or  has  been 
vicious. 

Once  more,  it  is  so  difficult  for  one,  however 
conscientious  he  may  be,  to  distinguish  between^ 
what  are  necessities  and  what  are  luxuries  for 
himself.  I  su];)pose  that  there  is  nothing  abso- 
lutely necessary  except  bread  and  shelter  and 
enough  clothing  to  keep  one  warm.  Theoretic- 
ally necessity  ends  with  this.  But  the  ordinary 
man  thinks  his  butter  as  equally  necessary  as 
his  bread,  and  the  woman  regards  the  ornament 
of  her  dress  as  being  as  much  of  a  necessity  as 
the  dress  itself.  And  so  on.  There  is  really  no 
place  where  one  can  say  that  necessity  ends  and 
luxury  begins. 

These  are  the  difficulties  in  the  way.     Tliey 
confuse   the  understanding;    they  benumb   the^ 
conscience.     Has  the  Master  anything  to  say  in 
the  premises  ? 

It  would  seem  that  He  has.  In  the  first  place, , 
there  is  a  kind  of  wealth  which  the  Christian ^'^\ 
may  not  own  at  all.  He  does  not  pass  upon  the 
Tightness  or  the  wrongness  of  anybody  else's 
owning  it  ;  he  simply  says  it  is  not  lawful  for 
him  to  own.  In  Old  Testament  times  a  devout 
Hebrew  might  not  put  into  the  Temple  treasury 


X 


34     BEARING  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  BURDENS. 

"the  reward  of  blood,  nor  the  price  of  a  dog,  nor  the 
hire  of  a  harlot.  These  were,  of  course,  arbitrary 
enactments  ;  but  the  spirit  which  underlay  them 
passed  on  into  Christianity.  The  rule  which 
subsisted  in  the  Temple  statutes  is  now  written 
in  the  Christian  conscience.  It  is  right  here  that 
Christianity  and  conventional  morality  part  com- 
pany. There  are  some  avocations  that  a  Chris- 
tian may  not  engage  in.  We  need  not  name 
them ;  they  will  suggest  themselves  at  once. 
With  these,  as  a  rule,  there  is  not  much  diffi- 
culty ;   those  who  do  engage  in   them  usually 

_ stand  aloof  from  the  Christian  Church.  But 
what  shall  one  do  if  he  is  a  member  or  an 
employee  of  a  firm,  or  house,  or  corporation 
which  habitually  violates  the  law  of  God  ?  His 
share  in  such  violation  is  infinitesimal.  He  may 
be  a  small  stockholder,  having  one  share  out  of 
a  million  in  a  corporation  which  seduces  the 
State,  tramples  upon  the  rights  of  a  municipality, 
grinds  the  faces  of  the  j^oor,  corrupts  justice,  and 
debauches  the  moral  sense.  Shall  he  take  his 
dividend?  Shall  he  remain  in  its  employ  and 
take  his  annual  salary  or  his  daily  wage  ?  The 
answer  is  clear.     He  may  not  do  so  and  still 

^remain  a  Christian. 

I  know  the  reply  perfectly  well.      The  stock- 
holder says:   "I  cannot  choose.     I  must  invest 
X  to  secure  an  income  ;  I  must  trust  my  investment 
to  the  management  ;  I  have  no  influence  with  the 
management.     What  shall  I  do  ?  "     The  laborer 


X 


BEARING  OTHER  PEOPLE'S  BURDENS.  35 

says  :  "  If  I  throw  np  my  position  I  will  starver 
I  could  do  that  possibly  ;  but  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren will  starve.       What   shall    I    do?"^     The 
answer  again,  however  hard  it  may  be,  is  per- 
fectly plain.     If  the  money  when  it  comes  into  \ 
the  corporation  treasury  has  sweat  upon  it,  or"^ 
tears,  or  blood,  or  comes  loaded  with  curses,  all 
these  stick  to  it  and  go  with  it  into  the  pockets 
and  into  the  souls  of  all  those  who  receive  it. 
The  answer  of  Christ  is  :  "  It  is  not  lawful."        -^ 
The  principle  of  the  text  goes  to  the  root  of" 
the   thing.     "Bear  ye  one  another's   burdens," 
the  injunction  is  ;   not   relieve  the  burdens  or 
destroy  them.     That  cannot  be  done.     The  in- 
junction is,  share  them.     Bear  about  with  you 
the  world's  misery  and  poverty  and  wretched- 
ness ;  bear  it  with  you  at  your  table,  at  your  fire- 
side, at   your  amusement,   at   your  work.     But 
you  ask,   "Why  should   I   carry  about   such  a 
death's  head  and  bloody  bones,   to  take  all  the  A 
zest  out  of  living?"      I  answer.  It   is  Christ's 
method  of  saving  you  from  selfish  sin.     It  is  His 
method  of  guiding  you  into  right  and  wholesome 
ways  ;  of  relieving  the  necessities  of  your  fellow- 
men;)  in  a  word  it  is  fulfilling— that  is,  filling^  x, 
full— the  law  of  Christ.  \  Where  this  deep  human  ^  ^ 
sympathy   is   present  in   one   as   a   motive,  the 
specific  things  to  be  done  will  become  clear  in^ 
each  case  as  it  arises. 


VII. 

SHAMEFUL  IGNORANCE. 

"  Some  bave  not  tbc  RnowlcDge  of  ©oJ).  II  speak  tbie 
to  i^our  sbame." — i  CoRraTHiANs  xv.  34. 

Whether  it  be  a  thing  to  be  ashamed  of  or 
not,  there  are  certainly  a  great  many  people  who 
do  not  "know  God."  In  some  cases  the  idea  is 
entirely  absent ;  in  others  it  is  present,  but  it  is 
formless,  vague,  indefinite,  and  to  all  practical 
purposes  valueless.  In  the  case  of  still  other 
persons  they  did  once  have  a  knowledge  of  God, 
or  they  thought  they  had — which  is  mucli  the 
same  thing.  They  possessed  at  one  time  an  in- 
herited set  of  notions  about  God ;  but  as  they 
liave  grown  older  they  have  taken  the  trouble  to 
examine  with  some  care  the  notions  wliich  they 
received  when  they  were  children,  have  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  they  were  not  tenable,  and 
have  thrown  them  away.  But  they  have  not  put 
anything  in  their  place.  Those  apartments  in 
their  nature  which  were  once  occupied  by  what 
they  thought  to  be  God,  they  have  found  were 
occupied  by  images,  and  they  have  either  broken 
the  images  and  thrown  them  out  of  doors,  or 
they  have  permanently  closed  those  rooms  and 
do  not  enter  them. 

36 


SHAMEFUL  IGNORANCE.  37 

All  tills  class  of  persons  are  impatient  at  the  — 
confident  tone  which  is  assnmed  by  the  Church 
and  by  religious  teachers  generally.  They  do 
not  honestly  believe  that  as  much  certitude  is 
possible  as  seems  to  be  implied  rather  in  the 
tone  than  in  the  matter  of  teachers  of  religion. 
Now,  is  there  anything  morally  blameworthy  in 
such  an  attitude  as  this  1  Is  there  anything  in  it 
to  be  ashamed  of  ?  Many  persons  are  really  sur-^/ 
prised  at  the  suggestion,  and  not  a  few  habit- 
ually think  that  exactly  the  opposite  is  true. 
The  very  young  man  is  inclined  to  think  that 
doubt  or  hesitancy  in  religious  matters  is  rather 
a  thing  to  pique  himself  upon  than  to  be  ashamed 
of.  The  avowed  liberal  never  ceases  to  call  atten- 
tion to  the  superior  moral  dignity  of  his  attitude 
as  contrasted  with  those  who  are,  as  he  says,_, 
bound  in  the  ligatures  of  dogma. 

All  this  makes  it  worth  while  to  ask  what  St. 
Paul  meant,  and  whether  what  he  meant  was 
true,  when  he  said  that  ignorance  of  the  things 
of  God  is  a  shameful  thing.  Everybody  wnll 
agree  that  it  is  not  only  shameful,  but  criminal,))^ 
if  it  be  an  ignorance  which  can  be  corrected. 
Nothing  will  save  it,  and  nothing  ought  to  save 
it  from  all  the  opprobrium  that  can  be  thrown 
upon  it,  except  the  proof  that  this  is  a  place  where 
knowledge  is  impossible,  and  that  therefore  lack 
of  knowledge  cannot  be  a  dishonorable  thing. 
In  other  departments  of  life  nothing  is  more  con-  \ 
temptible  than  willful  ignorance.     From  the  point^ 


38  SHAMEFUL  IGNORANCE. 

v/  y  of  view  of  science,  the  unpardonable  tiling  is  to 
"^  '^refuse  to  know  what  is  knowable.  In  the  busi- 
ness world  all  men  will  agree  that  uncertainty  or 
hesitancy  is  one  of  the  direst  of  all  evils.  Better 
to  know  what  the  facts  are,  however  bad  they 
may  be,  than  to  be  in  doubt.  Uncertainty  ruins 
business.  One  will  pardon  almost  anything  in 
the  navigator  of  a  ship  easier  than  hesitancy. 
He  may  be  ignorant,  rough,  boorish ;  he  may  be 
anything  that  is  bad  ;  but  the  one  thing  which 
the  passengers  insist  upon  is  that  he  must  have 
a  perfectly  clear  notion  of  where  he  is  going  and 
how  he  is  going  to  get  there.  The  most  con- 
^  temptible  thing  in  the  world  is  a  man  or  woman 
who  doubts  husband  or  wife.  Donbt  in  such  a 
relation  is  a  shameful  thing,  for  it  is  a  relation  in 
which  doubt  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  have  any 
place.  If  there  should  be  any  ground  for  the 
suspicion  of  evil  on  either  side,  it  becomes  at  once 
a  discreditable  thing  for  either  to  rest  for  a 
moment  until  the  doubt  be  settled.  Certitude, 
either  for  good  or  for  evil,  is  the  only  thing  in 
which  an  honorable  man  or  a  virtuous  woman 
can  rest.  It  all  sums  itself  up,  then,  in  this,  that 
hesitation  in  any  matter  of  profound  moment  is 
only  i:»ardonable  after  every  effort  has  been  made 
to  find  the  truth  and  has  failed.  But  the 
A  lurking  feeling  is  that  precisely  this  is  the 
case  in  religion  ;  that  certitude  is  impracticable 
and  that,  so  long  as  this  remains  true,  hesita- 
_tion,  however  unfortunate  it  may  le,  or  to  what- 


SHAMEFUL  IGNORANCE.  39 

ever  disaster  it  may  lead,  is  not  intrinsically 
shameful. 

Let  us  examine  this  feeling  a  little.  We  who 
call  ourselves  Christians,  for  instance,  are  per- 
suaded that  God  is  a  fact  and  a  person ;  that 
that  fact  and  person  is  manifested  to  us  in  Jesus 
Christ  ;  that  our  destiny,  and  in  some  way  the 
destiny  of  all  men,  is  bound  up  with  their  rela- 
tion to  this  manifestation  of  God.  Now,  is  any- 
thing better  possible  for  men  than  a  doubtful 
feeling  toward  all  these  propositions ?  "Doubt 
crossed  by  faith  or  faith  crossed  by  doubt," 
alternating  between  these  two,  is  anything  better 
really  attainable  ?  Whether  anything  more  cer- 
tain be  possible  or  not,  it  is  clear  that  men  have 
always  sought  for  certitude  and  will  go  on  seek- 
ing for  it  to  the  end  of  the  chapter,  "Master, 
show  us  a  sign,"  said  one  class  who  looked  at 
Him  ;  "Cast  thyself  down  from  the  temple," 
said  the  devil  ;  "Come  down  from  the  cross  and 
we  will  believe,"  said  the  Jews;  "  Lord  now 
speakest  Thou  plainly,  now  we  know,"  said  a  set 
of  His  disciples.  All  through  the  ages  men  have 
sought  to  find  assurance  from  texts,  from  signs, 
from  stigmata  ;  by  means  of  prayer  gauges,  faith 
cures,  and  all  sorts  of  similar  means  to  remove 
this  question  from  uncertainty  to  certainty. 

Why  do  these  means  all  fail,  and  the  doubtful- 
ness still  remain  ?     In  general  the  answer  is  easy  s^  n 
to  give.     It  is  because  God  corresponds  to  theA'A 
moral  side  of  consciousness,  and  not  to  the  Intel- 


40  SHAMEFUL  IGNORANCE. 

lectual  side.  1  It  is  possible,  and  always  has  been, 
for  the  philosopher  to  be  ignorant  of  God,  and 
for  the  artisan  or  the  little  child  to  be  certain 
}<^>\  about  Him.  It  is  not  by  thinking  rightly,  but 
by  living  rightly,  that  one  comes  to  understand 
that  complex  religious  truth  which  St.  Paul 
—  calls  "  the  knowledge  of  God."l  It  would  be 
exasperating,  if  it  were  not  so  pitiful,  to  see 
the  reiterated  attempts  and  reiterated  failures 
of  so  many  to  secure  religious  certainty.  Some 
of  the  brightest  men  and  women  seem  to  spend 
most  of  their  time  in  arguing,  questioning,  dis- 
cussing about  religion.  They  are  "ever  learn- 
ing and  never  able  to  come  to  the  knowledge  of 
the  truth."  They  do  not  for  a  moment  susj^ect 
the  reason  why,  but  anyone  who  looks  at  them 
calmly  from  the  outside  can  see  plainly  what  the 
difficulty  in  their.way  is.  They  fancy  that  the 
knowledge  of  God  is  reached  by  intellectual 
processes  ;  the  observer  knows  that  it  is  attained 
by  moral  processes.  These  persons  are  setting 
about  it  the  wrong  way.  They  fail,  and  their 
failure  is  shameful  because  it  is  avoidable.  This, 
according  to  the  teaching  of  Christ  and  of  the 
New  Testament  generally,  is  the  ground  upon 
which  St.  Paul  pours  contempt  upon  religious 
doubtfulness.  It  is  because,  as  he  declares,  it  is 
within  the  power  of  any  human  being  to  attain 
to  a  practicnl  working  certitude  if  he  uses  the 
proper  method.  "He  that  doeth  My  will  shall 
know  of  My  doctrine."     This  process  cannot  be 


SHAMEFUL  IGNORANCE.  41 

reversed.  It  is  idle  for  one  to  tliink  that  lie  may 
stand  neutral  until  he  has  discovered  what  the 
doctrine  is  before  he  undertakes  to  put  it  in  prac- 
tice. "To  him  that  ordereth  his  conversation 
aright  will  I  show  the  salvation  of  God." 


X 


VIII. 
RELIGION  AND  BUSINESS. 
*'JBe  not  slotbtul  in  business;  be  Oillgent  in  spidt, 

serving  tbe  XorD.— Romans  xii.  11. 

That  is  precisely  the  difficulty.  Is  it  possible 
for  one  to  be  fervent  in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord, 
without  neglecting-  his  business  ?  We  live  in  a 
commercial  age.  The  most  laborious  master  in 
our  day  is  business.  It  is  taken  for  granted  that 
everything  else  must  bend  or  yield  or  give  place 
or  get  out  of  the  way  before  business  stress.  It  is 
thought  of  by  many  thousands  of  men  as  being, 
in  fact,  the  only  real  thing.  All  other  things 
are  sentimental ;  good  in  their  way,  but  not 
tiie  prime  thing.  But  "  business  is  business," 
and  all  else  must  give  place.  Of  course  there  is 
a  good  side  to  this.  This  intense  practicalness 
is  the  characteristic  of  that  race  which  has 
become  dominant  in  the  earth.  It  has  been  able 
to  dominate  because  it  has  been  able  to  pursue  a 
business  steadfastly.  Nothing  would  be  more 
futile  than  to  inveigh  against  the  spirit  of  any 
age.  It  is  too  strong  to  be  turned  backward  ; 
and,  in  the  long  run,  it  works  its  purpose  and 
does  God's  will.  But  the  commercial  spirit  of 
our  age  and  country  carries  with  it  very  serious 

42 


RELIGION  AND  BUSINESS.  43 

perils.      I  call  your  attention  briefly  to  some  of 
these. 

It    is  lamented   by   many   that    romance  has^" 
taken  its  departure  from  actual  life  ;    that  art 
does  not  flourish  ;  that  we  have  no  great  paint- 
ings   or    statues  or  buildings— for    the  alleged 
reason  that  men  are  too  busy  to  look  at  them, 
and  because  they  value  their  money  for  commer- 
cial purposes  so  highly  that  they  are  not  willing 
to  spend  it  upon  art.     It  is  said,  and  we  fancy 
with  some  truth,  that  the  philosophical  lawyer  is 
disappearing  and  the  man  of  business  is  taking 
his  place  ;  that  the  erudite  physician  is  becom- 
ing scarce,  and   the   practitioner   is   taking   his 
place  ;  that  the  skilled  artisan,  who  made  an  art^-'^ 
of   his  craft,  has  been  supplanted  by  a   "base 
mechanical,"  who  can  only  do  some  portion  of  a 
trade,  and  has  neither  pleasure  nor  pride  in  it. 
It  is  pointed  out  that  the  charm  of  woman  is  dis- 
appearing.     She  expresses   herself  in  business- 
like   habits    and    tailor-made    garments,    thus 
unwittingly  giving  in  her  adhesion  to  the  busi- 
ness-like spirit  of  the  age.     It  is  said  that  men's 
gallantry  is  disappearing,  because  men  are  too 
busy  to  be  polite  and   woman  are  growing  too 
practical   to  care  whether  they  are    or   not.      I 
do  not  affirm  that  these  opinions  are  true.     It 
looks    as   though   they   were   to   a  considerable 
extent,  at  any  rate.     Even  if  they  are  not  abso- 
lutely true,   they  mark  tendencies  which  it  is^ 
well  to  consider. 


44  RELIGION  AND  BUSINESS. 

Take  the  case  of  the  average  young  man.  His 
education  has  taken  a  utilitarian  cast  from 
the  time  he  began  to  learn  his  alphabet.  His 
parents  throughout  his  whole  training  have 
thought  of  those  things  which  will  enable  him  to 
earn  a  livelihood.  All  through  his  youth  the 
pressure  of  a  practical  education  has  left  him 
little  time  to  think  of  the  higher  things  in  life. 
Or  the  average  woman  ;  her  multiform  education 
has  tended  toward  practical  ends  ;  her  society 
duties  are  most  exacting ;  her  wife's  and 
mother's  obligations  are  superadded  to  these. 
She  wakes  every  morning  confronted  with  a 
mountain  of  business  to  be  reduced,  and  goes  to 
bed  at  night  often  too  tired  to  say  her  prayers. 
Nothing  is  more  pathetic  than  her  attempt  later 
in  life  to  attain  culture  or  improve  her  mind,  after 
she  has  lost  even  the  capacity  to  even  sit  still. 
We  do  not  speak  of  the  soft  and  delicate  woman 
of  luxury  who  has  become  so  supersensitive  that 
the  crumpled  rose  leaf  in  her  couch  tortures  her, 
or  of  the  inane  gilded  youth  who  "grins  like  a 
dog  and  runneth  about  the  city,"  but  of  ordi- 
nary wholesome-minded  men  and  women. 

The  same  difhculty  confronts  every  family — 
\    how  to  make  a  place  in  the  household  routine  for 
"^  grace  before  meat,  for  family  prayers,  for  instruc- 
tion in  religion.     The  same  thing  is  the  standing 
obstacle  in  the  way  of  good  government.     The 
e  of  this  city,  or  any  other  in  America,  are 
perfectly  able  to  provide  for  themselves  the  best 


X 


Xpeoph 


RELIGION  AND  BUSINESS.  45 

government  in  the  world.     They  assign  a  thou-"" 
sand  reasons  for   not  doing  so.     They  rail  at 
politicians  and  devise  ballot-reform  schemes  to 
make  men    honest    automatically.      They   miss.     . 
the  real  explanation  ;  they  are  too  busy.     They /^  A 
have  not  time  to  devote  that  attention  and  care 
to   the    administration    of  government   without 
which  men  have  been  and  always  will  be  badly__ 
ruled. 

Of  course,  I  have  in  mind  what  seems  to  me, 
at  any  rate,  to  be  much  higher  things  than  art, 
or  leisure,  or  culture,  or  good  government.  I 
have  in  mind  those  things  which  are  catalogued  _, 
under  the  general  title  of  "religion."  I  mean^ 
that  thought  of  God  and  eternal  life  and  the 
judgment  and  the  attuning  of  the  spirit  to  the 
eternal  realities  by  which  the  spirit  secures 
content. 

Complaint  is  often  made,  from  the  pulpit,  that 
men's  faith  is  slipping  away  from  them.  The 
reasons  assigned  are  the  increase  of  knowledge, 
the  attainments  in  the  physical  sciences,  the  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  of  accepting  certain  dogmas. 
No  doubt  all  these  are  true  in  a  way,  but  the  real , 
reason  in  most  cases  lies  much  nearer  at  handA 
and  is  much  more  difficult  to  deal  with.  Men 
are  losing  their  faith,  if  they  are  losing  it,  in  the 
same  way  that  a  king  of  old  lost  his  valuable 
prisoner,  and  for  which  loss  he  was  sternly 
rebuked  by  the  prophet  of  God  :  "Thy  servant 
went  out  into  the  midst  of  the  battle  ;  and  behold, 


46  RELIGION  AND  BUSINESS. 

a  man  turned  aside,  and  brought  a  prisoner  unto 
me,  and  said.  Keep  this  man :  if  by  any  means 
he  be  missing,  then  shall  thy  life  be  for  his  life. 

y^  And  as  thy  servant  was  busy  here  and  there, 
he  was  gone."  If  faith  be  gone  it  is  because  it 
has  slipped  away  wliile  men  were  "busy  here 
and  there." 
^  It  all  comes  back,  in  a  word,  to  the  question  of 
the  relative  values  of  things.  If  money  and  the 
things  that  money  can  buy  are  deemed  by  any 
person  to  be  actually  of  more  value  than  the 
things  which  belong  to  the  cultivation  of  his  soul, 
then  to  business  he  will  address  himself.  He 
will  not  be  slothful,  but  diligent  enough  in  all 
conscience.  But  he  will  have  to  pay  the  price 
for  it,  and  that  is  the  sacrifice  of  the  things 
belonging  to  the  spirit.      I  am  quite  aware  of 

N/  the  difficulty  of  this  whole  way  of  looking  at 
tilings.  It  is  indeed  very  difficult  for  the  average 
man  to  seriously  believe  that  his  soul  is  of  as 
much  value  as  his  body,  or  that  "the  life"  is 
really  "  more  than  the  raiment."  It  always  has 
been  difficult  to  take  seriously  this  dictum  of 
Christ.  But  in  their  heart  of  hearts  His  hearers 
knew  that  what  He  said  was  true.  The  veriest 
money-grubber  knows  that  it  is  true  now.  Jesus 
does  not  ask  men  to  throw  up  their  business  and 
become  street  preachers  or  barefooted  monks. 
He  did  jDrescribe  this  to  one  young  man,  it  is 
true,  but  it  is  quite  clear  that  in  his  particular 
_...  case  it  was  the  only  prescription  which  was  indi- 


RELIGION  AND   BUSINESS.  47 

cated  by  the  symptoms.  1  But  men  are  made  to 
be  at  home  at  the  same  time  in  two  worlds,  the 
world  of  things  and  the  world  of  thoughts.;  The 
counsel  of  the  apostle  is,  therefore,  sound  sense  y^ 
as  well  as  divine  wisdom.  It  may  be  parn- 
phrased,  "Be  diligent  in  business  and  at  the 
same  time  fervent  in  religion,  thus  serving  man 
and  God." 


X 


IX. 

THE  MEANING  OF  LENT. 

"asretbrcn,  we  arc  Debtors  not  to  tbe  flesb,  to  live  after 
tbe  flesb.  jfor  if  ^e  live  after  tbe  flesb,  ge  sball  Die  :  but 
if  ge  tbrougb  tbe  Spirit  Do  mortifg  tbe  DeeDs  of  tbe  bo^^, 

ge  Sball  live." — Romans  viii.  12-13. 

Just  now  a  large  portion  of  tlie  Christian 
world  is  "keeping  Lent."  Theoretically  they 
are  "  weeping,  fasting,  and  praying."  Of 
course,  it  may  be  confessed  that  in  the  case  of 
multitudes,  it  is  not  much  more  than  a  theory. 
Their  austerities  are  not  very  severe,  nor  will 
their  groans  disturb  their  neighbors.  But  even 
so,  a  custom  which  has  sufficient  force  to  com- 
mand even  hypocritical  observance  must  rest 
upon  some  reality.  Probably  few  realize  upon 
what  a  scale  this  Lent-keeping  custom  prevails. 
There  are  probably  several  millions  of  adult  men 
and  women  whose  whole  manner  of  life  for  the 
six  Aveeks  current  will  be  markedly  different  from 
what  it  has  been  throughout  the  year.  Nor  will 
they  be  at  all  the  persons  whom  candid  men 
would  pronounce  to  be  in  special  need  to  modify 
their  way  of  living.  They  are  the  best  people  in 
the  world  through  all  the  weeks  of  the  year  ; 
but  now  they  pass  inward   still  farther  to   the 

48 


THE   MEANING   OF  LENT.  49 

holy  places  of  life.     They  fast,  pray,  give  alms, 
meditate. 

Outside  this  inner  circle  there  is  a  far  larger 
one  composed  of  several  hundred  millions  of 
people  who  keep  Lent  more  or  less.  Rather 
more  attention  is  given  by  them  to  prayers  andX 
alms  and  self-repression  than  ordinarily.  The 
spirit  of  the  season  touches  them  without  con- 
trolling them,  Just  as  the  spirit  of  Christmas 
touches  multitudes. 

Now,  so  extensive,  so  sustained,  so  enduring  a'^ 
phenomenon  must  rest  upon  some  real  basis.     It 
is  foolish  to  wave  it  off  in  airy  fashion  as  "a  sur- 
vival of  paganism,   or  certainly  of  Judaism." 
There  are  "survivals"  in  every  organism,  but 
those  organs  which  have  outlasted  their  function 
do  not  dominate  the  body's  action  in  this  fashion. 
We  may  be  quite  sure  that  the  custom  survives \^ 
because  it  fills  some  necessity.     All  the  gibes  of  ^ 
the  society  journals  about   "fashionable  sack- 
cloth" are  beside  the   mark.     They  cannot  be 
more  trenchant  than  the  words  of  the  Master : 
If  anyone  ' '  f asteth  so  as  to  appear  unto  men  in 
fast,"  he  is  dismissed  as  a  hypocrite  in  advance. 
But  such  people  are  not  common  in  actual  life, 
and  when  they  do  appear  it  is  rather  through 
weakness  of  head  than  through  badness  of  hearty 
that  they  err.  ^ 

What,  then,  do  Christian  people  mean  by  their 
Lenten  discipline,  assuming  that  they  are  honest 
in  entering  upon  it?    It  springs  from  a    fact 


50  THE  MEANING  OF  LENT. 

""wliicli  any  man  can  know,  and  which  every  "  re- 
ligious"  man  does    know,   to  be  true.     That   is 

V'that  each  man's  inner  and  essential  sell'  is  so- 
licited in  opposite  directions  by  two  rival  attrac- 
tions. They  are  the  "flesh"  and  the  "spirit." 
Of  course,  these  words  are  not  terms  of  scientific 
precision.  But  people  know  sufficiently  well 
what  they  mean.  The  "flesh"  is  a  comprehen- 
sive word  for  all  those  facts  and  forces  which  the 
senses  take  account  of.  The  "spirit"  may 
stand  for  those  higher  and  deeper  but  less  in- 
sistent facts  and  forces  with  which  the  soul  deals 
directly.  These  two  sides  of  life  clamor  con- 
stantly for  the  right  to  dominate  the  ego.     But 

\  everybody  knows  that  the  solicitations  of  the 
^  flesh  draw  more  powerfully  than  those  of  the 
spirit.  Pleasiire  is  pleasant  right  now  ;  Avhile 
goodness  only  promises  to  become  pleasant  by 
and  by.  The  flesh  pays  cash  ;  the  spirit  waits 
upon  time.  It  is  about  impossible  for  many  to 
believe  that  business  or  professional  success, 
bringing  with  it  leisure,  luxury,  power,  and  self- 
satisfaction,  is  not  really  the  best  thing  possible 
for  the  ordinary  man.  It  is  a  good  thing  ;  but 
it  may  come  too  high.  Not  a  few  men  have 
paid  for  it  all  with  their  souls.  They  have  no 
souls  now.  They  have  assassinated  them  be- 
cause they  disturbed  their  owners'  peace.     They 

y  "lived  to  the  flesh"  and  have  died.  They  still 
live,  to  be  sure — that  is,  they  have  not  yet 
_.  learned  that  they  are  dead. 


THE  MEANING  OF  LENT.  51 

It  is  only  in  our  generation  that  men  are  begin- 
ning to  see  how  closely  bound  together  are  the 
flesh  and  the  spirit,  the  soul  and  the  body.  For 
many  an  age  they  were  thought  of  as  two  pil- 
grims, loosely  attached,  who  should  journey 
together  a  little  way  and  then  separate,  each 
regardless  of  the  other's  destiny.  We  see  better 
now  the  nexus.  Morals  has  a  physical  basis,  and 
the  spirit  is  a  flower  whose  roots  are  in  the  flesh. 

"Living  to  the  flesh"  is  not  living  grossly. 
The  most  unspiritual  man  may  even  be  the  most 
fastidious.  It  is  simply  a  life  so  conducted  that 
the  soul  is  neglected.  It  gets  no  chance.  In 
Lent  the  Christian  world  resolves  more  or  less 
strenuously  to  redress  the  balance  of  life  as  far 
as  maybe.  It  would  "bring  the  body  under." 
Not  humiliate  it  or  revile  it,  but  relegate  it  to  its 
proper  place.  He  who  would  get  good  from  the 
season  will  take  it  as  an  opportunity  for  a 
deliberate,  sustained  attempt  at  self-mastery. 
He  approaches  the  unseen  through  the  medium 
of  the  tangible.  It  is  a  fight  for  life  and  death. 
But  it  is  the  contest  of  the  long  ages,  entered 
upon  by  the  first  man  who  had  gained  moral 
insight  enougli  to  discern  the  monition  of  God 
from  the  flavor  of  a  fruit ;  carried  to  its  ultimate 
issue  when  the  Son  of  Man  fought  it  out  in  his 
own  soul  in  the  desert ;  facing  every  son  of  man 
with  the  inevitable  alternative, 

"  If  ye  live  to  the  flesh  ye  shall  die  ;  if  through 
the  Spirit  ye  mortify  the  flesh,  ye  shall  live." 


X. 

WHO  HAS  A  DEVIL? 

*•  ^ben  answereD  tbe  Jews,  anO  sa(D  unto  bim,  Sag  we 
not  well  tbat  tbou  . . .  bast  a  Devil  ?  "—John  viii.  48. 

The  Jews,  on  the  occasion  of  which  our  text  is 
part  of  the  account,  were  thrown  into  a  fever  of 
rage  by  some  quiet  words  of  our  Lord.  They 
stormed  and  raved  and  called  Him  names,  and 
finally  accused  Him  of  the  very  thing  which  was 
the  matter  with  themselves — they  said  He  had  a 

)\  devil.     The  truth  was  a  devil  had  them. 

^        The  lesson  is,  a  bad  mind  sees  bad  things.     It 

y\  makes  a  bad  element  to  live  in.  The  habit  we 
have  of  projecting  ourselves  upon  the  world  out- 
side us  is  most  marvelous.  What  is  the  reason 
that  sometimes  of  an  evening,  after  a  day's  work 
and  worry,  we  feel  so  utterly  hopeless?  We 
look  about  over  our  business  or  our  household, 
and  everything  seems  going  to  the  dogs.  Our 
plans  seem  sure  to  fail,  and  the  path  seems  abso- 
lutely closed  before  us.  But  we  go  to  sleep  in  the 
midst  of  it  and  when  we  wake  up  all  is  changed. 
What   is   the   reason?     Has   any   change    taken 

}(  jilace  in  the  face  of  the  world  while  we  slept? 
Not  at  all,  but  we  look  at  the  world  through 

52 


WHO  HAS   A  DEVIL?  53 

other  eyes.  The  truth  is,  we  make  our  world  to^' 
Ji  great  extent.  Two  great  factors  make  up  the 
total  of  every  human  life — one's  self  and  the  rest 
of  the  world.  The  world  outside  is  but  the 
reflection  of  the  world  inside  each  one  of  us. 
We  are  compelled  to  go  inside  of  our  own 
experience  to  get  terms  to  describe  what  goes  on 
outside.  This  is  true  more  particularly  concern- 
ing moral  things.  The  wicked  man  is  not  sane. 
Not  that  he  is  insane,  but  unsane.  His  nature 
is  not  acting  in  obedience  to  the  laws  which 
ought  to  regulate  it.  It  is  out  of  joint.  It  is  a 
distempered  nature  and  can  only  see  distemper 
in  the  world  around  it.  Even  the  sun  is  smoky  y(^ 
seen  through  a  smoked  glass.  So  we  are  all  our 
lives  meeting  bitter,  painful,  vexatious  things 
because  we  are  out  of  gear  ourselves.  It  is  a  law 
of  nature  that  things  really  good  become  not  only 
an  annoyance,  but  positive  pain,  if  the  organ 
to  which  they  appeal  is  out  of  order.  If  one  is 
sickish,  food  makes  him  worse.  If  one  has  sore 
eyes,  light  hurts  theui.  In  this  way  selfishness 
and  sin  make  the  whole  soul  a  diseased  receiving- 
organ,  and  therefore  things  which  are  really  for 
its  good  hurt  and  worry  it.  The  wise  and  good 
law  of  God  becomes  a  burden  to  it.  Christ  Him- 
self becomes  hateful.  Truth  becomes  distaste- 
ful ;  good  and  pure  people  are  a  disturbance.        ^ 

The  most  abused  Man  who  ever  walked  this 
earth  of  ours  was  the  most  perfect  Man  that  ever/<^ 
was  in  it,  and  He  was  abused  because  He  was 


54  WHO  HAS  A  DEVIL? 

perfect.  Jesus  Christ  was  accused  of  more 
crimes  ;ind  worse  ones  than  ever  man  committed 
in  the  worid.  He  not  only  "had  a  devil,"  in 
the  language  of  His  slanderers,  but  He  was  Him- 
self in  league  with  the  Prince  of  Devils  and  did 
wonders  by  his  aid  !  Every  act  He  did  was 
cariDed  at  and  misinterpreted.  When  He  talked 
to  the  people  about  their  duty  to  their  God,  He 
was  abused  for  trying  to  incite  rebellion  against 
Csesar.  Wlien  He  told  the  great  truth  for  men's 
comfort,  that  God  and  man  had  met  in  His  per- 
son. He  was  accused  of  blasphemy.  When  He 
went  to  His  friends'  houses  to  eat  at  their  tables 
He  was  called  a  glutton.  When  He  drank  wine 
like  other  folk,  He  was  called  a  drunkard. 
When  they  would  not  endure  His  presence 
among  them  any  longer,  they  took  Him  up  onto 
a  hill  outside  the  city  and  nailed  Him  on  a 
cross. 
~"    It  is  a  sad  commentary  upon  nature  that  we 

)x(  like  bad  people  more  than  good  ones.  They  are 
so  much  more  entertaining !  What  is  the  reason 
we  never  allow  any  man  perfect  credit  for  purity 
of  motive  ?  Did  you  ever  hear  a  person's  char- 
acter much  praised  in  company,  without  feeling 
a  sort  of  hankering  to  say  something  on  the 
other  side  of  the  question  ?  It  is  as  hard  for 
some  to  keep  from  besmirching  a  fair  character, 
as  for    a    schoolboy   to   resist    throwing    stones 

/^  through  the  windows  of  an  empty  house.     Good 
__peoi^le  so  often  stir  up  the  evil  that  is  in  us,  and 


WHO  HAS  A  DEVIL?  55 

then  we  attribute  to  them  the  character  which  we 
ourselves  possess. 

There  is  a  kind  of  person  we  see  often — the 
passionate,  ill-natured  man — the  man  who  is 
always  living  in  a  tempest.  He  is  always 
wronged.  Someone  is  eternally  imposing  upon 
him.  To  believe  his  story  one  would  think  him 
the  most  abused  mortal  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth.  It  never  strikes  him  that  the  enemy  he 
possesses  is  in  his  own  bosom — a  restless,  uneasy, 
discontented  mind.  He  does  not  know  that  to 
be  ill-natured  is  just  the  same  thing  as  to  be  ill- 
treated. 

Then  the  actual  wrongs  of  this  world  are  so^ 
often  blamed  upon  somebody  else  by  the  ones/<( 
wlio  do  them.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  filthy 
debauchee  who  had  not  at  his  tongue's  end  some 
silly  story  about  his  having  been  deceived  once, 
and  so  determining  to  take  revenge  upon  all  for 
the  wrong  done  him  by  one  ?  Did  you  ever  know 
an  habitual  drunkard  who  did  not  have  some- 
body else  to  lay  the  blame  of  his  sin  upon  1  The 
poor  victim  of  drink — was  he  not  disinherited 
by  his  father  ?  Wasn't  he  driven  to  desperation 
by  the  slanders  of  his  enemies  ?  Was  he  not 
overtaken  by  misfortune  and  his  credit  ruined  ? 
Wasn't  he  married  to  a  wife  who  was  a  perpetual 
thorn  in  his  side  1  Isn't  it  always  that  somebody 
else  is  to  blame  for  it,  and  never  that  he  goes 
and  gets  drunk  because  he  likes  it  ?  Everybody/<^ /\ 
has  a  devil  except  the  one  who  has  it  himself.       ^ 


X 


X 


66  WHO  HAS  A  DEVIL? 

So  human  nature  in  its  bad  estate  everywhere. 
We  never  know  that  we  have  a  devil  ourselves, 
but  always  imagine  that  other  people  are 
possessed. 

Now,  the  lesson  of  all  this  is,  that  as  so  much 
of  misery  comes  from  an  evil  mind  within,  so 
the  cure  of  it  can  only  be  looked  for  from  a 
change  in  our  temper  and  spirit.  To  be  saved 
from  sin  we  must  be  "  renewed  in  the  inner  man 
by  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God."  It  is  not 
any  change  of  condition,  or  place,  or  circum- 
stances we  want,  but  a  change  of  disposition 
Notice  what  Christ  offers  to  the  world,  not  any 
improvement  in  outward  circumstances,  but  rest, 
peace,  cooling  the  fevered  soul  in  its  sickness, 
purging  the  jaundiced  eyes  of  the  distorting  pig- 
ment, making  life  sweet  and  pleasant  because  it 
is  clean. 


XI. 

FAMILY  RELIGION. 

"  fbc  went  Down  wltb  tbctn,  anO  came  to  IRasaretb,  anD 
wa0  subject  unto  tbem:  anD  increased  (n  wisDom  anO 
stature,  anD  in  favor  witb  ©oD  anD  man."— Luke  ii.  5i,  53. 

It  is  a  little  startling  to  have  it  plainly  inti- 
mated that  Jesus  came  to  be  what  He  was,  partly 
through  the  way  in  which  He  was  reared.^ 
Clearly  in  the  text  His  growth  in  wisdom  and 
goodness  is  connected  with  the  discipline  of 
Joseph  and  Mary. 

The  supreme  moment  in  the  life  of  man  or~~ 
woman  is  when  they  hold  in  their  arms  their 
first-born  child.  Its  soft  fingers  unlock  chambers 
in  their  souls  whose  very  existence  they  had 
been  ignorant  of.  It  educates  them  mucli  and 
rapidly  before  they  begin  to  educate  it.  But 
they  must  begin.  And  the  religious  life  of  the 
child  will  be  very  much  what  the  religion  of  the,  •; 
fatlier's  family  will  make  it.  As  things  are 
among  us,  the  chances  are  good  that  the  ordinary 
child  will  have  his  growth  in  wisdom  and  in 
stature  looked  after.  His  schools  will  be  selected 
with  the  best  skill  available,  and  he  will  be  kept 
at  his  books.  If  anything  threatens  his  physical 
welfare  a  physician  will    be  called  in.     Food,_ 

57 


58  FAMILY  RELIGION. 

teaching,  exercise,  medicine — all  these  things 
the  average  child  finds  at  his  disposal.  Indeed, 
y  there  is  a  growing  disposition  not  only  to  provide 
them  for  him,  but  to  see  that  he  is  compelled  to 
take  them. 

But  what  about    that  ingredient  in  his  life 
which  will  lead  him  "into  favor  with  God  and 
man"?     To  whom  shall   he  look  for  that?    To 
chance  ?    To  a  random  impression  which  may  be 
^C  X  made  upon  him  late  in  life  ?    No  !    The  place  from 
where  he  has  a  right  to  expect  religious  guidance 
is  from  his  father's  house.     If  his  father  be  either 
unable,  unwilling,  or  unfit  to  furnish  this,  he  has 
-  no  business  to  have  either  house  or  child. 
^        The  one  thing  which  is  needed  in  this  country 
/,  above  all  else,  is  the  religion  of  the  family — not 
the  religion  of  the  individual  or  of  the  Church, 
but  of  the  household.     It  is  in  grave  peril  of 
being  lost  from  that  place  where  it  pre-eminently 
belongs.     One  large  portion  of  the  religious  ele- 
ment of  the  community  assumes  without  much 
thought  that  religion  is  a  personal  matter  solely  ; 
that  it  approaches  the  adult  individual,  man  or 
woman.      Another   portion  assigns  it  its  home 
almost  exclusively  in  the  Church  ;  it  segregates 
an  area  of  beliefs,   practices,  and  ceremonials, 
and  calls  these  religion.     So  they  are.     But  still 
the  institute  of  religion  is  the  family.     If  Chris- 
tianity brings  nothing  to  any  man  save  to  loosen 
in  him  his  sense  of  being  the  priest  of  his  own 
_  household,  it  may  well  be  asked  whether  he  had 


FAMILY  RELIGION.  59 

not  better  have  remained  in  paganism.     Family 
prayers,  grace  before  meat,  the  teaching  of  the       v 
catechism — these   lie   far  closer  to  the  root  of '^''^ 
individual  righteousness  and   of  public   purity 
than  is  often  realized. 

We  fear  they  have  almost  entirely  disap 
peared.  Many  things  have  co-operated  to  cause 
their  abandonment.  The  settlement  of  this 
country  has  been  so  much  by  isolated  individuals 
that  family  religion  has  been  in  many  instances 
impracticable  for  so  long  that  the  idea  of  it  has 
been  lost.  Again,  the  restlessness  which  causes 
the  so  frequent  change  of  house  and  home  is  apt 
to  break  up  so  much  of  the  spirit  of  family  wor- 
ship as  rests  upon  habit  and  routine.  But  above 
all  has  operated  that  thought  of  religion  which 
thinks  of  it  as  an  emotional  revolution  in  the 
individual.  To  such  a  conception  of  religion 
family  worship  counts  for  little.  Bat  for  one  rea- 
son or  another  it  has  largely  disappeared.  The 
loss  is  unspeakable.  We  believe  profoundly  that 
the  Church  and  ministry  might  well  lay  aside  for 
a  time  all  other  projects  if  so  be  they  could 
persuade  or  even  shame  Christian  men  into 
becoming  the  ministers  of  God  in  their  own 
households.  If  this  could  be  once  brought  about 
the  Church  would  in  her  turn  receive  such  an 
uplift  as  has  not  come  to  her  for  ages. 

The  notion  that  religion  may  be  left  to  the  un- 
biased choice  of  the  child  when  arrived  at  years 
of  discretion  is  a  i)estilent  lie.     It  is  "  individu- 


60  FAMILY  RELIGION. 

~"  alism  "  run  mad.  Nine  times  out  of  ten  the 
father  who  adopts  it  in  the  case  of  his  own 
cliildren  does  so  either  because  he  is  morally 
too  dull  to  care,  or  because  his  own  life  is  such  as 
makes  him  hesitate  to  mention  religion  to  his 
wide-eyed  child.  Besides  that,  it  is  iDractically 
impossible.  Leave  a  child  unbiased?  You  little 
realize  how  w^ell  your  son  knows  you.  Probably 
he  has  a  clearer  idea  of   your  religious  beliefs 

y  than  you  have  yourself.  You  don' t  go  to  church  ; 
you  don't  say  your  prayers;  you  don't  admit 
religion  as  a  thing  to  be  considered  in  your  own 
life.  But  you  would  like  your  son  or  your 
daughter  to  do  so.  Why  should  they  ?  You 
profess  an  unwillingness  to  bias  them.  Can't 
you  see  that  you  do  influence  them  every  day, 
and  with  an  influence  which  even  under  the  law 
of  persistence  of  force  will  go  on  to  influence 
them  after  you  are  both  dead  and  forgotten  of 
_  living  men  ? 

No,  the  Christian  home  is  the  fountain  of 
Christian  living.  Those  families  which  hold  to- 
gether and  pass  onward  an  honored  surname  are 
the  Christian  families — those  which  are  cemented 

y  by  a  community  of  religion.  They  survive  be- 
"  cause  they  deserve  to  survive.  The  family  avIio 
sit  about  the  dinner  table  upon  whose  bounty 
the  father  has  craved  the  blessing  of  God  do  not 
quarrel  across  the  board  or  drink  too  much 
when  the  cloth  is  drawn.  An  unconscious  sense 
_  of  the  fitness  of  things  restrains  them.     The  hus- 


FAMILY  RELIGION.  61 

band  and  wife  who  have  knelt  together  in  the 
morning  to  say  Our  Father  are  not  found  in  the 
divorce  court  on  that  or  any  other  day.  The 
man  who  reads  prayers  witli  his  family  at  break- 
fast goes  to  his  office  secure  against  a  thou- 
sand temptations  which  may  otherwise  carry 
him  away. 

The  family  at  Nazareth  was  devout — the  son 
was   subject   to   them.     And   therefore  "  He   in-  < 
creased  in  wisdom  and  stature  and  in  favor  with 
Grod  and  man." 


XII. 

SINS   OF  IGNORANCE. 
"  jfatber,  forgive  tbem :  foe  tbcg  hnow  not  wbat  tbe!5 

^0,*' — Luke  xxiii.  34. 

How  far  can  the  plea  of  ignorance  be  admitted 
in  excuse  for  religious  fault  ?  Will  it  be  enough 
for  one  to  be  able  to  say  "  I  did  not  know  it  was 
wrong  ?  "  or  to  say  "  It  is  true  I  did  not  do  such 
and  such  a  thing,  but  it  was  because  I  did  not 
know  that  I  ought  to  have  done  it  ?  "  Can  this 
plea  be  accepted  by  God  ?  People  generally  take 
it  for  granted  that  in  any  case  where  one  can  hon- 
estly say  that  lie  did  not  know  what  he  was  doing, 
he  will  not  be  held  to  account  by  the  Almighty. 
It  becomes  worth  while,  therefore,  to  look  into 
this  matter  a  little  more  closely.  What  does 
the  plea  of  ignorance  avail  a  man  in  the  presence 
of  human  law?  It  is  sufficient  to  disprove  mali- 
cious intent,  and  that  is  all.  It  does  not  stop  the 
law  nor  its  execution.  If  the  law  has  been  broken, 
the  consequences  must  go  on.  Ignorance,  how- 
ever, certainly  does  take  away  from  the  offense 
its  moral  guilt.  There  remains  in  such  a  case 
violation  of  law,  but  not  violation  of  conscience. 
We  are  in  the  habit  of  thinking  that  God  only 

63 


SINS  OF  IGNORANCE.  63 

regards  those  things  as  wrong  in  a  man  which 
the  man  himself  regards  as  wrong.  This  is  tlie 
fundamental  mistake.  There  are  some  things 
that  are  right  and  some  things  that  are  wrong 
from  God's  standpoint  without  any  regard  to 
what  men  may  think  of  them. .  It  is  perfectly 
clear  to  those  who  look  facts  in  the  face  that  the 
plea  of  ignorance  is  not  sufficient  to  stop  the 
consequences  of  any  wrong  action  that  a  man 
may  commit.  If  he  violate  a  law  of  the  State, 
he  must  expect  the  consequences.  If  it  is  a 
physical  law  that  is  being  dealt  with,  the  same 
thing  happens.  The  child  puts  his  finger  into 
the  candle  and  it  is  burned.  The  poor  child  did 
not  know  that  the  candle  would  burn  it,  but  it 
burned  all  the  same.  The  same  thing  is  true  in 
the  region  of  the  affections.  When  the  foolish" 
Madam  Esmond  sentenced  her  two  grown  sons  to 
the  whip  of  the  tutor,  the  young  gentlemen 
rebelled.  The  enormity  of  the  foolish  mother's 
offense  became  j)lain  to  her  at  once,  and  she  was 
willing  to  bend  her  proud  soul  to  make  any /f 
apology.  But  George  took  the  vase  from  the 
mantel  and  let  it  fall  on  the  hearth  and,  when  it 
flew  into  a  hundred  pieces,  he  bowed  to  his 
mother  and  said:  "  You  see  it  is  broken  ;  there 
is  nothing  farther  to  be  said."  ~~ 

Now,  in  tlie  region  of  religion  there  is  a  vague 
notion  that  if  one  can  only  say  honestly  "I  did 
not  know  that  I  Avas  doing  wrong,"  he  is  thereby 
relieved  from  all  moral  responsibility  and  from 


64  SINS  OF  IGNORANCE. 

farther  evil  consequences.  Or  that  if  he  can  urge, 
as  his  excuse  for  the  failure  to  perform  some 
religious  duty,  that  he  did  not  really  know  or 
believe  it  to  be  his  duty,  he  will,  therefore,  not 
be  judged  harshly  for  liis  failure. 
~  The  notewortliy  thing  about  men,  viewed  from 
X,  a  religious  standpoint,  is  their  great  lack  of  de- 
liberate purpose  and  intention.  For  the  most 
part  they  drift.  Of  the  great  multitude  that 
surrounded  our  Lord  in  Jerusalem,  there  was  a 
little  grou^j  of  His  inexorable  enemies  ;  there 
was  also  a  little  group  of  devoted  friends.  These 
both  are  easily  judged.  From  the  point  of  view 
of  the  Master,  it  would  seem  to  be  easy  to  say 
to  the  one  class,  you  are  accepted  forever,  and  to 
the  other  class,  you  are  rejected  forever.  But 
what  of  the  great  multitude  who  surged  up  and 
down  clamorously,  one  day  crying,  "  Hosanna, 
^Hosanna!"  and  the  next  day  shouting,  "Crucify 
Him,  crucify  Him"  ?  It  is  clear  that  they  had 
no  intelligent  idea  of  the  situation,  and  were 
really  in  ignorance  of  what  was  the  question 
about  which  it  all  turned.  This  is  the  situa- 
tion yet.  There  is  the  great  multitude  of  men 
who  really  have  no  opinions  or  information  at  all 
about  God  and  duty.  There  is  an  equally  great 
multitude  who  entertain  most  mistaken  opinions. 
That  is,  they  are  honest  in  their  ignorance,  and 
they  are  honest  in  their  mistakes.  Will  either 
X  their  ignorance  or  their  mistakes  save  them  from 
_  evil  consequences,  or  can  they  attain  to  spiritual 


SINS  OF  IGNORANCE.  65 

rewards  without  their  ignorance   or   their  mis- 
takes being  cured  ! 

Let  us  look  now  at  the  text.  Christ  on  tlin 
Cross  in  His  agony  sees  the  thoughtless  crowd 
taking  part  ignorantly  in  the  tragedy.  He  lifts 
His  feeble  head  toward  heaven  and  says,  Father, 
forgive  them,  for  they  are  ignorant !  One  cannot 
but  suppose  that  His  i^etition  for  them  was 
granted,  and  that  they  were  forgiven  the  guilt  of 
their  action.  Bat  that  did  not  avail  to  takeaway 
from  them  and  their  children  the  dreadful  conse- 
quences. This  fact  opens  up  an  appalling  ques-, 
tion :  Can  sin  be  forgiven  and  its  consequences  A. 
still  remain? 

There  is  a  widespread  misconception  of  the 
whole  situation  right  at  this  jDoint.  People  have 
the  notion  that  God's  dealing  with  man  is  after 
a  mechanical  or  bookkeeping  fashion.  They 
forget  that  the  laws  of  the  Kingdom  of  Heaven 
are  biological  laws.  In  the  nature  of  the  case 
they  can  only  be  in  analogy  with  the  laws  of 
nature.  To  speak  accurately,  there  are  not  in 
existence  two  classes  of  laws,  but  one.  It  de- 
pends ui)on  the  point  of  view  whether  you  regard 
them  as  God's  laws  or  nature's  laws,  for  they  are 
the  same  thing.  God's  laws  do  not  shout ;  they 
do  not  call  attention  to  themselves.  They  are 
content  with  simply  existing.  They  wait  to  be 
found  out.  The  question  is,  shall  one  find  them 
out  in  advance  and  obey  them  ?  Or  shall  he  go 
on  carelessly  until    he  discovers  them   through 


66  SINS   OF  IGNORANCE. 

the  consequences  of  disobedience  ?  This  is  the 
view  of  the  matter  that  Christ  evidently  took. 
His  purpose  was  not  to  proclaim  new  laws,  new 
facts  in  the  spiritual  world,  but  to  call  attention 
to  those  which  had  always  been  in  existence  and 
always  must  be,  and  to  provide  some  safe  and 
hopeful  method  of  dealing  with  them. 
-  Men  stand,  therefore,  in  the  ijresence  of  God, 
of  life,  of  death,  of  immortality.  These  are  all 
fundamental  facts  and  forces.  Their  laws  are 
laws  which  execute  themselves.  They  do  not 
need  machinery.  There  is  nothing  arbitrary 
about  them.  Forgiveness  will  take  the  sting  out 
of  a  past  act  of  disobedience,  but  it  does  not  pro- 
fess to  deal  with  the  consequences  of  that  dis- 
obedience. The  transcendent  value  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  this  regard  is  the  way  in  which  He 
illuminates  the  whole  situation.  He  calls  Him- 
self the  "Light"  ;  light  upon  the  problem  of 
living ;  upon  the  peri^lexing  problem  of  duty  ; 
upon  the  mystery  of  dying ;  upon  the  mystery 
of  living  again.  Those  who  walk  in  the  light  do 
not  stumble.  Those  who  disregard  the  light 
walk  into  perils,  stumble,  and  are  bruised.  Their 
punishment  is  not  penalty,  it  is  consequence. 
They  are  not  punished.  They  simply  come  to 
grief. 


XIII. 

OVER-CONFIDENCE. 
"  Ipetci-  salO  unto  bim,  ^bouglD  H  sboulD  Die  witb  tbce, 

set  will  11  not  Dens  tbee.'  "—Matthew  xxvi.  35. 

There  are  some  souls  that  sin  scorches  and 
shrivels  clear  away,  but  there  are  some  whom  it 
purifies  like  silver  in  the  furnace. 

The  "  Denial"  of  St.  Peter  is  the  story  of  a  sin 
and  a  repentance.  One  night,  a  dozen  men  were 
reclining  around  a  table,  after  supper,  in  a  room 
in  Jerusalem,  dark-bearded,  loose-robed  Jews. 
They  were  unusually  silent  and  restrained. 
The  principal  figure  was  quiet  and  thoughtful. 
The  rest  were  either  watching  Him,  or  muttering 
something  half  articulately  to  the  neighbors /\ 
nearest  them.  It  was  a  farewell  supper,  but 
there  was  no  pledging  of  health,  or  jingling  of 
glasses.  Their  Leader  and  Companion,  with 
whom  they  had  spent  years  of  closest  intimacy, 
was  going  to  death  to-morrow,  and  He  knew  it. 
After  a  while,  one  of  them  near  the  door  arose 
quietly,  and  stealthily  slipped  out.  He  had  gone_ 
to  get  his  thirty  pieces  of  silver. 

Then  the  inner  sadness  of  the  soul  of  Christ 
came  suddenly  to   the  surface.     He   told  them 

67 


68  OVER-CONFIDENCE. 

plainly  that  He  was  going  away  from  tliem,  tliat 
after  a  while  they  would  follow  Him,  but  they 
could  not  do  it  now.  He  told  them  that  a  deep 
disgrace  was  coming  upon  Him,  and  that  they 
would  all  forsake  Him,  This  touched  Peter  in 
a  tender  place.  If  there  was  any  point  upon 
which  he  was  sure  of  himself,  it  was  his  courage. 
Nothing  was  going  to  frighten  him  into  leaving 
his  friends.  "Though  all  men  should  forsake 
Thee,  yet  will  not  I."  Probably  he  did  not  mean 
to  boast,  but  he  seemed  to  put  more  confidence 
in  his  own  faithfulness  than  that  of  the  rest  of 
them.  At  any  rate  he  did  not  know  what  he 
was  talking  about,  and  ought  to  have  kept  quiet. 
It  was  not  much  more  than  a  sentimental  ism. 
No  doubt  he  really  had  a  good  deal  of  affection  for 
his  Master,  but  he  loved  himself  more.  \  At  any 
rate,  friendship  is  not  a  thing  which  bears  to  be 
/\  X  much  talked  about.  Putting  it  into  words  soils 
it.  Whoever  loves  a  friend  honestly,  will  have 
his  love,  like  Cordelias,  "More  richer  than  his 
tongue."  )  "Though  I  should  die  with  Thee,  yet 
will  I  not  deny  thee,"  says  Peter.  But  our 
Lord  knew  him  better  than  he  knew  himself,  for 
the  stern  answer  came  :  "  Wilt  thou  lay  down 
thy  life  for  my  sake?  Before  the  cock  crow 
thrice,  thou  shalt  deny  me  three  times."  The 
story  of  Peter's  fault  is  so  well  known  that  it 
does  not  need  to  be  told.  It  was  the  sin  of  a  good 
man.  It  was  a  sin  which  was  the  turning  x^oint 
of  a  good  man's  life.     It  was   the  driving  and 


OVER-CONFIDENCE.  69 

ruinous  storm  of  a  tropical  nature,  which  cleansed 
the  air  and  made  it  pure.     What  are  its  lessons  '( 

The  first  is  that  men  yield  readily  to  tempta-w 
tions  which  come  upon  the  strong  side  of  their 
nature.  In  the  attack  of  a  fort,  the  skillful 
general  often  tries  to  find  a  place  where  the 
garrison  has  trusted,  to  its  inaccessibility,  and  so 
left  unguarded.  It  is  a  curious  fact  that  three- 
fourths  of  the  men  who  are  accidentally  drowned 
are  good  swimmers.  One's  real  belief  in  his  own 
power,  helped  out  by  his  vanity,  leads  him  be 
yond  his  strength.  Peter  was  a  brave  man,  and 
an  honorable  one,  and  yet  his  sin  was  a  cowardly 
and  contemptible  one. 

Another  lesson  is  a  most  trite  one.  Avoid  the  w 
beginning  of  evil.  When  Peter  once  told  a  lie  he  ^ 
could  not  stop.  He  told  it  three  times,  and  he 
would  have  told  it  a  hundred  times  if  he  had 
been  asked  the  question  a  hundred  times.  Did 
you  ever  tell  a  lie  and  then  keep  on  telling  it 
because  you  were  ashamed  to  confess  that  it  was 
a  lie? 

Another  lesson  is  as  to  the  use  to  make  of  our 
sins — the  power  to  make  of  "our  dead  selves  step-  X 
ping  stones  to  higher  things."  Judas  and  Peter 
both  committed  the  same  sin,  and  both  repented 
alike,  but  their  repentance  was  of  different 
kinds.  Judas  repented  and  hanged  himself. 
Peter  repented  and  went  back  to  his  duty. 

The  end  of  this  story  was  by  the  shore  of  the 
Lake  of  Galilee.     There   Peter  was  at   his  old 


70  OVER-CONFIDENCE. 

trade  of  fishing  again,  with  not  any  of  his  old 
boastfulness  or  self-sufficiency — a  still,  backward, 
self-distrustful  man.  There,  on  the  very  spot 
where  he  had  first  left  all  to  follow  Christ,  he 
y(^  saw  Him  again,  and  three  times  answered  the 
question,  "Simon,  Son  of  Jonas,  lovest  thou 
me?"  not  witli  any  boastful  profession,  but 
humbly,  "Lord,  thou  knowest  all  things.  Thou 
knowest  I  love  thee." 

God  grant  that  as  we  every  day  follow  St. 
Peter  in  his  sin,  we  may  at  last  be  like  him  in 
his  repentance. 


XIV. 

THE  CRY  FROM  THE  CROSS. 

*'  JBloU  clou  lamab  sabacFjtbanal,  tbat  is  to  sa^,  m^ 
©oD,  ms  (BoD,  wbg  bast  tbou  forsalien  me  7  "—Matthew 

xxvii.  46. 

This  cry  of  Jesus  from  the  cross  probably 
indicates  the  low  water  mark  of  His  experience 
in  agony.  It  has  a  double  interest.  In  the  first 
place,  it  allows  one  to  see  into  the  interior  of 
the  emotions  of  that  strange  personality.  In  the 
second  place,  it  answers  to  one  of  the  most  com- 
mon experiences  in  human  life.  But  to  see  pre- 
cisely what  it  imports  it  is  necessary  to  go  back 
a  little  and  look  at  what  actually  was  His  atti- 
tude toward  God  and  man. 

Tiie  characteristic  thing  about  Jesus  was  His  y 
intense  consciousness  of  God.  Most  men  believe  • 
in  God,  but  in  them  that  belief  is  languid.  It  is 
a  conviction,  an  assumption.  It  does  not,  as  a 
rule,  deeply  touch  their  emotions.  But  with 
Him  His  good  Father  in  heaven  was  more  real 
than  the  people  He  saw  on  earth.  He  had  with 
Him  a  perfect  understanding — at  least  He  evi- 
dently supposed  He  had.  Probably  He  reached 
this  understanding  slowly.  He  "increased"  as 
a  child,  and  a  young  man,  "in  favor  of  God." 

71 


12  THE  CRY  FROM  THE  CROSS. 

But  whether  He  readied  the  conviction  slowly  or 
suddenly,  the  conviction  itself  was  the  moving 
spring  of  all  His  action.  He  seems  to  have  said 
to  Himself  : 

"I  know  what  my  Father  in  heaven  is  ;  His 
great  divine  heart  is  bursting  with  love  for  His 
human  children ;  I  will  go  among  them,  even  as 
God  does ;  I  will  be  patient  with  them  as  God  is 
patient ;  I  will  do  them  good  as  my  Father  does ; 
I  will  make  no  distinction  between  the  worthy 
and  the  unworthy  ;  I  will  not  be  repulsed  by 
indifference  or  ingratitude  or  unattractiveness ; 
I  will  be  perfect  in  divine  charity,  and  God  will 
add  the  rest."  But  the  instant  this  determina- 
iion  formed  itself  in  His  mind,  arose  the  great 
Temptation.  He  wished  to  uplift  the  world  of 
men  into  companiohship  with  the  Almighty,  but 
the  devil  suggested,  "Why  not  do  this  more 
quickly,  more  certainly,  in  a  more  striking  way, 
and  in  a  less  painful  way  than  you  propose?" 
The  temptation  was  tremendous,  but  He  put 
it  aside  and  started  along  what  He  calls  His 
"Way." 

For  a  while  it  looked  as  though  the  wisdom  of 
this  course  would  be  vindicated  at  once.  He 
attracted  attention  forthwith.  His  words  were  so 
gracious.  His  person  was  so  charming,  His  gifts 
were  so  divine,  that  followers  flocked  to  Him  in 
troops.  But  success  stirred  the  sleepy  evil  of 
the  world.  It  took  that  evil  several  years  to 
make  up  its  mind,  in   its  own  stui)id  fashion, 


THE  CRY  FROM  THE  CROSS.  IS 

that  its  relentless  enemy  was  present.  But  it 
did  make  np  its  mind.  His  kinsmen  called  Him 
insane  ;  His  discijDles  advised  caution  and  care- 
fulness. He  irritated  the  settled  regime  of 
selfishness  and  convention.  His  "way"  ren- 
dered the  ecclesiastical  punctiliousness  about 
Him  of  no  meaning.  If  that  Way  should  be 
adopted,  it  would  disturb  political  customs,  it 
would  disturb  men's  habits,  upset  their  ways  of 
thought.  They  grew  more  and  more  exasperated, 
until  finally  they  turned  upon  Him  in  rage  and 
nailed  Him  on  the  cross.  As  He  hung  there,  in  the 
first  pangs  of  His  maddening  agony,  He  seemed 
to  have  forgotten  His  physical  pain  in  the  over- 
wlu'lming  feeling  that  He  had  thrown  His  life 
away!  To  his  blurred  eyes  men,  whom  He  had 
so  loved,  whom  He  had  so  earnestly  sought  for, 
moved  up  and  down,  and  their  hoarse  shouts  and 
cries  seemed  to  His  dizzy  brain  the  mocking 
laughter  of  demons.  It  was  as  though  Satan, 
whom  He  had  repulsed  three  years  before  in  the 
Avilderness,  had  come  back  with  legions  of 
fiends  to  mock  Him  for  having  been  a  fool.  He 
sank  for  a  moment  into  spiritual  despair.  He 
seems  to  have  said  to  Himself,  "  Satan  was  right. 
I  trnsted  in  God,  I  committed  my  way  to  Him,  I 
was  as  sure  of  Him  as  a  son  can  be  of  a  father, 
and  now — my  God,  my  God,  thou  hast  forsaken 
me  !  "  It  w^as  the  groan  of  spiritual  exhaustion. 
What  man  is  there  who  does  not  dimly  recog- 
nize himself  in  this  1     There  is  such  a  thinfj;  as 


V4        THE  CRY  FROM  THE  CROSS. 

"becoming  weary  in  well-doing."  A  righteous 
man,  or  a  would-be  righteous  man,  despairs 
under  the  distress  of  actual  living.  He  commits 
his  way  to  God.  God  leads  him  for  a  little,  then 
seems  to  leave  him  not  only  helpless,  but  with  a 
sense  of  having  been  fooled.  "For  I  was  envious 
at  the  foolish  when  I  saw  the  prosperity  of  the 
wicked.  They  are  not  in  trouble  as  other  men, 
neither  are  they  plagued  like  other  men.  They 
say,  doth  God  know  ?  Is  there  knowledge  in  the 
Most  High  ?  They  prosper  in  the  world,  they 
increase  in  riches,  therefore  I  have  cleansed  my 
heart  in  vain,  for  all  the  day  long  I  have  been 
plagued."  This  is  the  spiritual  despair  of  the 
good.  The  worldly  man  despairs  in  advance,  and 
acts  upon  his  spiritual  skepticism.  He  refuses 
to  set  out  in  Christ's  way  at  all,  and  from  him 
this  cry  of  agony  never  comes. 

For  the  man,  however,  who  hungers  and  thirsts 
for  righteousness,  who  would  trust  his  way  to 
God,  this  outburst  of  hopelessness  from  the  lips 
of  the  Master  is  full  of  comfort  and  uplift.  He 
touched  the  bottom  of  such  experience.  There 
is  no  depth  beyond.  But  having  touched  it  He 
immediately  rose  again  therefrom.  The  clouds 
which  for  a  moment  obscured  God  from  His  sight 
passed  away.  The  extremity  of  physical  pain 
was  forgotten  in  the  restoration  of  the  unquench- 
able confidence  in  God,  which  returned  again  to 
its  proper  action.  God  had  not  forsaken  Him. 
For  the  moment  He  thought  He  had.     It  was  but 


THE  CRY  FROM  THE  CROSS.        15 

for  a  moment ;  He  passed  from  the  depths 
swiftly  into  that  serene  confidence  in  God  which 
it  is  possible  for  all  men  to  reach.  Christ  is  tlio 
deliverer  from  moral  despair,  and  in  no  portion 
of  His  work  is  He  so  completely  a  deliverer  o\ 
one  whom  men  follow  so  gladly. 


XV. 

FUTURE    EXISTENCE. 

"B^c  batb  not  seen,  nor  ear  bcarD,  ncitber  bave 
entereO  Into  tbe  beart  of  man,  tbe  tbings  wbicb  ©oO 
batb  prcparcD  for  tbcm  tbat  love  bim. 

*'  J6ut  Oo^  batb  rcvcaleO  tbeni  unto  us  bg  bis  Sp(r(t." 

— 1  COKINTHIANS  ii.  9. 

The  actual  effect  produced  by  a  belief  in  future 
existence  falls  absurdly  short  of  what  one  might 
naturally  expect  such  a  startling  belief  to  pro- 
duce. Men  do  believe  in  the  fact,  but  for  some 
strange  reason  it  does  not  affect  either  their 
imagination  or  their  conduct.  The  belief  in  a 
future  life  is,  among  us,  practically  universal. 
It  would  be  hard  to  find  a  man  who  denies  "  the 
immortality  of  the  soul."  Why  is  it,  then,  that 
men  being  convinced,  as  they  are,  of  the  fact  are, 
so  far  as  one  cau  see,  uninfluenced  by  it  ?  This 
cannot  be  explained  by  the  remoteness  of  that 
future.  It  is  not  so  very  remote  after  all  ;  it  is 
not  more  than  three  score  and  ten  years  away 
from  anybody,  and  is  very  much  closer  than  that 
to  most.  Besides  that,  men  do  labor  strenuously 
for  remote  things.  One  will  spend  a  half  century 
in  building  up  a  fortune  according  to  the  imagi- 
nation which  filled  his  mind  in  youth.     One  will 

76 


FUTURE  EXISTENCE.  "^^ 

work  a  lifetime  in  the  hope  of  a  political  prefer- 
ment which  the  law  of  chances  tells  him  is  most 
unlikely  even  at  the  end.  It  is  neither  doubt  of 
the  fact  nor  the  remoteness  of  the  fact  which 
accounts  for  the  lack  of  practical  effect  which  a 
belief  in  the  future  life  produces. 

Nor  is  very  much  gained  by  any  attempt  to 
fortify  the  fact  by  proof.  It  is  perfectly  easy 
to  make  an  argument  for  immortality  which 
seems  to  be  cogent,  but  the  trouble  is  that  no 
one  is  moved  by  it.  The  etherial  monotony  of 
existence,  which  is  the  only  kind  that  can  be  con- 
ceived of  for  an  immortal  soul,  is  too  colorless 
to  attract  men's  longings.  Mere  continuity  in 
being  may  be,  after  all,  a  very  doubtful  boon. 

wliat  is  wanted  is  not  a  proof  of  immortality, - 
but  some  conception  of  a  future  life  which  can 
be  presented  before  the  imagination.     What   I 
want  to  know  is  not,  if  I  die  shall  I  live  again, 
but  what  sort  of  life  am  I  to  have  ?    This  neces- 
sity   has    been  deeply    and    widely    felt.  ^  The 
attempt  has  even  been  made   to  answer  it  by 
drawing    vivid    pictures    of    hell    and    heaven,  y 
From  the  smoke,  the  flames,  the  ashes  of  the  A 
valley  of  Hinnom  outside  the  city  of  Jerusalem,  in 
which  were  consumed  the  bodies  of  beggars  and 
asses  and  dogs,  from  which  stenches  arose  and  in 
which  seething  mass  worms  rioted,  has  been  con- 
structed a  fancy  picture  of  the  future  world  of 
torment.     Dante  simply  embellished  such  a  pic- 
ture ;  the  canvas  and  the  outlines  were  provided _ 


X 


18  FUTURE  EXISTENCE. 

ready  to  hand.  His  imagery,  which  once  was 
sufficient  to  make  men  tremble,  now  only  causes 
a  smile.  On  the  other  hand,  a  celestial  scenery 
has  been  constructed,  within  which  the  world 
has  tried  to  catch  glimpses  of  the  fleeting  phan- 
toms of  disembodied  ghosts,  incomplete,  naked, 
colorless,  unattractive.  From  a  Persian  para- 
dise has  been  created  a  Christian  heaven.  It  has 
been  filled  in  fancy  with  childish  delights,  with 
blooming  flowers,  purling  streams,  and  all  the 
rest. of  it,  but  it  has  had  little  power  to  attract 
—  the  average  man.  What  repels  in  the  current 
conception  of  the  future  life  is  its  vagueness  and 
barrenness,  its  monotonous  uniformity,  so  that 
one  is  sometimes  in  doubt  which  he  should  x^re- 
fer  if  he  must  choose  between  the  conventional 
paradise  or  the  conventional  Gehenna,  What  is 
there  in  either  of  them  that  can  arrest  interest 
and  hold  the  attention  ?  The  busy  man,  whose 
joy  is  work,  has  but  languid  longing  for  a 
\y  \y  heaven  of  rest.  The  artist  who  revels  in  beauty 
^  is  little  attracted  by  a  heaven  in  which  form  has 
no  place.  The  woman  who  lived  in  her  affections 
is  not  attracted  by  the  paradise  within  which  she 
doubts  whether  she  may  meet  the  object  of  her 
affection.  The  student  who  seeks  for  knowledge 
is  not  drawn  toward  a  state  of  existence  within 
which  learning  may  have  no  place  or  within 
which  all  knowledge  is  satisfied.  Of  course,  in 
every  man  the  instinct  of  existence  itself  is  so 
>^  strong,  that  he  would  probably  prefer  even  a 


FUTURE  EXISTENCE.  79 

monotonous,   colorless,    pbantom-like  existence)^ 
rather  than  cease  to  be. 

Now,  are  the  materials  available  out  of  which 
to  construct  a  future  which  will  appeal  to  men's 
imagination  and  satisfy  their  longings?  The 
central  fact  about  which  the  thought  and  wor- 
ship of  Easter  Day  revolves  seems  to  furnish  the 
missing  element  for  such  a  belief. !  A  future  life 
in  order  to  be  realizable  must  be  an  individual^ 
life  which  is  furnished  with  a  body  as  well  as  a 
soul. )  It  is  here  that  we  discover  the  power  of 
the  Christian  belief  in  the  resurrection  of  Christ, 
It  need  hardly  be  said  that  we  have  not  befere 
us  any  anatomical  or  chemical  question  of  the 
identity  of  pliysical  matter.  The  truth  is,  the 
scientific  world  is  only  now  beginning  dimly  to 
conceive  of  the  possibilities  which  matter  pos- 
sesses. It  is  enough  to  say  that  the  Lord  of  Life, 
after  having  laid  down  a  body,  manifested  Him- 
self again  in  a  body.  It  is  about  the  resurrec- 
tion body  of  the  Master  that  the  ideas  of  immor- 
tality must  ultimately  crystallize.  The  value  of 
the  resurrection  is  that  it  gives  the  imagination 
as  well  as  the  understanding  something  to  work 
upon. 

Now,  carrying  with  us  the  Christian  belief  that 
not  bodiless,  but  embodied,  men  pass  on  through 
the  veil,  see  how  the  whole  aspect  of  the  future 
life  changes.  For,  remember,  that  the  posses- 
sion of  a  body  implies  an  environment  in  which 
that  body  shall  act.    This  belief  lies  in  the  back- 


80  FUTURE_  EXISTENCE. 

ground  of  the  Seer's  tlioiiglit  when  he  drew  that 
gorgeous  f)icture  of  the  life  to  come:  "I  saw  a 
new  heaven  and  a  new  earth  ;  the  first  heaven 
and  the  first  earth  were  passed  away,  but  I  John 
saw  a  holy  city  and  I  heard  a  great  voice  saying : 
Behold  the  tabernacle  of  God.  They  shall  be 
His  people  and  God  shall  be  their  God.  And 
the  city  had  no  need  of  the  sun,  neither  of  the 
moon  to  shine  in  it,  for  the  glory  of  God  did 
light  it,  and  the  nations  shall  walk  in  the  light 
of  it,  and  the  kings  of  the  earth  do  bring  their 
glory  into  it,  and  the  gates  of  it  shall  not  be  shut 
by  day,  for  there  shall  be  no  night  there."  It 
may  be,  indeed,  tliat  this  is  only  a  parable.  It 
may  be  a  bit  of  Oriental  imager3^  It  may  not 
correspond  to  the  actual  facts,  it  may  be, 

"  Poor  fragments  all  of  this  low  earth 
Such  as  in  dreams  could  hardly  soothe 
A  soul  that  had  once  tasted  of  immortal  truth." 

But  it  is  at  least  thinkable.  It  allures  by  a 
certain  sense  of  reality  which  it  possesses.  In  a 
life  so  conceived  of,  instead  of  arresting  natural 
human  powers  and  longings,  an  opportunity  is 
opened  up  for  their  infinite  widening  out  and 
expansion.  When  death,  the  illuminator,  brings 
to  one's  sight  the  secrets  which  lie  beyond 
"  where  old  Bootes  leads  his  leash  or  Sagittarius 
draws  his  bow  in  the  south,"  an  actual  existence 
opens  before  the  eye  in  which  one  can  fancy 
himself  living,  and  not,  phantom-like,  simulating 


FUTURE   EXISTENCE.  81 

existence.  There  is  in  it  the  possibility  of  prog- 
ress in  character,  in  understanding,  in  affec- 
tion, by  means  of  endless  action  and  kindly 
ministries. 

"  For  doubtless  uuto  them  is  given 
A  life  that  bears  immortal  fruit, 
In  such  great  offices  as  suit 
The  full  grown  energies  of  Heaven." 

It  brings  satisfaction  to  the  hungry  affections, 
it  enables  the  bereaved  soul  to  walk  not  only 
serenely,  but  jubilant,  into  the  great  darkness 
with  the  expectation  that  there  he  may  again 
catch  "the  sound  of  a  voice  that  is  still."  In  a 
ivord,  it  provides  space  and  scope  for  every 
innocent  appetite,  every  pure  affection,  every 
joyful  activity  : 

"  To  the  lover  full  fruition 

Of  an  unexhausted  joy  ; 
To  the  warrior  crowned  ambition 

With  uo  envy's  base  alloy  ; 
To  the  ruler  seuse  of  action, 

Working  out  his  great  intent ; 
To  the  prophet  satisfaction 

In  the  mission  he  was  sent." 


xyi. 

THE  LIGHT  THE  CHRISTIAN  SEES. 

"  G:i3e  people  wblcb  sat  in  OarF^ness,  saw  great  Ugbt ; 
aiiD  to  tbem  wbicb  sat  fn  tbe  region  anD  sbaDow  of 

Oeatb,  ligbt  is  sprung  up."— Matthew  iv.  16. 

There  are  some  problems  which  humanity  lins 
been  facing  all  these  centuries,  which  it  seems 
they  never  will  be  able  to  settle.  For  example, 
the  race  has  been  experimenting  ever  since  it 
emerged  from  savagery  with  the  problem  of 
government.  It  has  not  yet  found  the  solution. 
It  may  seriously  be  doubted  whether  there  is  ;i 
community  of  ten  thousand  men  upon  the  face 
of  the  earth  which  is  even  approximately  well 
governed.  Of  course,  some  are  better  than 
others,  but  all  fall  infinitely  below  the  ideal. 
Men  are  not  even  agreed,  or  anything  like  agreed, 
as  to  what  is  the  best  form  of  government,  lei 
alone  the  best  method  of  administration.  Or, 
again,  the  faculty  has  been  for  centuries  wrest- 
ling with  disease.  It  has  not  been  able  to  find  a 
^  cure  for  whooping  cough  or  how  to  prevent  sea- 
'  sickness.  Or  again,  how  shall  men  live  together 
in  society?  This  is  sometimes  called  the  social 
question.     It  simply  means,  How  shall  we  guar- 

82 


THE  LIGHT  THE  CHRISTIAN  SEES.  83 

antee  that  each  man,  woman,  and  child  shall  re- 
ceive his  or  her  share  at  the  banquet  of  life,  so 
that  no  one  shall  be  shoved  off  in  a  corner  to 
starve  while  some  glutton  eats  too  much  and 
stows  away  in  his  pocket  what  he  cannot  devour. 
One  may  run  through  the  whole  circle  of  facts 
which  make  up  human  life,  but  he  will  find  him- 
self face  to  face  with  an  unsolved  problem  at 
every  turn.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  no  one  can 
deny  that  relatively  great  advance  has  been  made 
in  all  these  directions.  Absolutely,  the  medical 
faculty  has  little  control  over  the  things  which 
affect  physical  health,  but  relatively,  it  is  a  thou- 
sand miles  in  advance  of  where  it  was  even  a  cen- 
tury ago.  The  same  thing  is  true  with  regard  to 
government  and  social  order. 

Now,  I  ask  you  to  note  that  in  any  of  these  de-~ 
partments,  the  fact  that  a  border  of  ignorance 
remains  round  about  the  spot  which  is  illumi-\^ 
nated  by  science,  does  not  in  any  way  discredit 
the  knowledge  Avliich  we  do  possess  concern- 
ing that  portion.  Nor  is  there  anything  irra- 
tional in  the  hope  that  a  complete  answer 
will  some  day  be  found  for  every  problem  ot 
human  existence.  It  will  not  be  in  our  any,  to 
be  sure,  and  no  One  Avould  be  hardy  encngh  to 
say  when  it  will  be,  yet  there  is  nctbing  un- 
reasonable in  expecting  that  Scienca,  with  her 
torch  in  her  hand,  will  move  forward  and  out- 
ward until  the  light  of  that  torch  illuminates 
every  portion  of  human  existence.  _ 


84  THE   LIGHT   THE   CHRISTIAN   SEES. 

Let  lis  suppose,  then,  that  tliis  has  already  been 
accomplished,  that  there  are  no  physical  prob- 
lems or  social  problems  or  political  problems  left 
unsolved.  Suppose,  indeed,  that  men  knew 
everything  there  is  to  be  known  about  their  own 
bodies  and  about  the  universe  in  which  they  live. 
They  would  then  be  face  to  face  with  the  great 
outstanding  problem,  the  future  life.  In  point 
of  fact,  men  have  already  anticipated  it.  No 
generation  has  ever  been  content  to  wait, 
before  facing  the  question  of  immortality,  until 
it  should  have  learned  everything  about  this  life. 
Is  there  any  light  from  any  quarter  attainable 
upon  this  insistent  question  ?  "  If  a  man  die, 
shall  he  live  again  ?"  And  if  so  be  that  he  may 
live  again,  when  and  where  and  how,  and  owing 
to  what  causes  ?  With  regard  to  all  the  other 
dark  places  that  I  have  mentioned,  we  expect 
that  light  will  come  from  science,  from  observa- 
tion, from  experiment.  But  these  methods  are 
not  available  in  this  deeper  question  of  existence. 
There  are  not  a  few,  therefore,  who  bid  us  dis- 
miss the  problem  altogether.  They  pronounce 
it  insoluble.  They  bid  us  exjjend  our  energy 
within  the  world  of  nature.  They  count  it  worse 
than  a  waste  of  time  to  stand  longingly  before 
the  supernatural.  They  say  they  have  gone  to 
the  end  of  the  road  in  that  direction,  and  have 
/^  A  found  a  barrier  across  it  with  the  words  "No 
thoroughfare." 

It  is  hardly  worth  while  for  the  agnostic  to 


THE  LIGHT  THE  CHRISTIAN  SEES.  85 

give  US  this  counsel.  We  will  not  heed  it.  Even 
though  it  be  folly  to  go  on  questioning  the  world 
beyond,  we  shall  still  go  on  committing  that 
folly.  The  mystery  is  so  engrossing,  simply 
regarded  as  a  question,  that  even  though  one  had 
no  personal  interest  in  it,  he  would  still  go  on 
asking  it.  But  beyond  that,  our  affections  are  so 
entangled  with  this  question.  With  this  question 
unanswered,  no  man  can  lay  his  dead  out  of  sight 
in  the  ground,  without  pondering  as  he  walks 
back  to  his  lonely  home,  "  What  has  become  of 
him  V  "  Where  is  she  now  ?  "  The  agnostic's 
advice  will  not  be  heeded.  It  will  not  be  taken 
even  by  himself.  When  his  child  dies,  or  his 
own  life  runs  low,  he  will  ask  the  same  question 
that  we  do.  Now,  is  there  no  light  forthcoming  ? 
The  Christian  believes  that  he  has  a  definite 
light  upon  this  dark  place.  He  does  not  assert 
that  every  corner  of  it  is  illuminated,  or  that  no 
mystery  remains  in  it.  Nevertheless,  he  asserts 
that  he  has  some  knowledge  here,  which  llie  non- 
religious  man  does  not  possess.  He  turiu,  in  the 
first  place,  to  the  words,  and  in  the  second  place, 
to  the  deeds  of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  wliat  do  they 
show  him  ?  From  His  words  he  learns  what  he 
has  suspected  to  be  true,  that  human  existence  3('\' 
does  not  lead  to  a  cul-de-sac.  It  issues  some- 
where. The  reason  why  he  believes  it  leads 
somewhere  is  because  Jesus  has  pointed  out  for 
the  first  time  that  it  is  entangled  with  the  exist-  ^  >(" 
ence  of  God.     Anything   which  has  once  been 


86  THE  LIGHT  THE  CHRISTIAN  SEES. 

taken  up  into  the  affections  of  the  Eternal  is 
thereby  guaranteed  a  perpetuity  of  existence,  be- 
cause God's  affections  do  not  change.     But  it  is 

"V chiefly  the  exemplification  in  Christ's  own  ex- 
perience of  the  life  beyond,  upon  which  the  Chris- 
tian rests.  He  believes  in  the  fact  of  the  resur- 
rection of  the  Man  of  Nazareth. 

Of  course  he  is  quite  aware  that  many  persons 
dismiss  all  this  as  "supernatural,"  and  therefore 
of  necessity  untrue.  To  this  I  reply  that  the 
question  is  not  at  all  between  the  "  natural  "  and 
the  "  supernatural."  It  is  quite  a  different  ques- 
tion.    Is  it  true  ?    Is  it  a  fact  that  Jesus  arose 

—  from  the  dead  ?  If  so,  or  indeed  in  any  case,  the 
division  of  existence  into  natural  and  super- 
natural is  utterly  unwarranted.  There  is  no 
such  division.  Everything  is  natural  and  every- 
thing is  supernatural.  It  depends  on  the  point 
of  view.  There  will  never  be,  or  can  never  have 
been  a  resurrection,  unless  resurrection  be  in- 
intrinsically  natural.  The  reason  wliy  the  world 
h:is  been  filled  with  a  sense  of  hopefulness  by  the 
fact  of  the  resurrection  of  Christ,  is  that  it  sees 
in  it  the  resurrection  of  a  man,  and  therefore  it 
has  been  shown  to  be  natural  under  the  proper 
.._  conditions  to  humanity.  This,  briefly,  is  the 
light  in  which  the  Christian  world  sees.  The- 
oretically, of  course,  it  may  not  be  a  light  shin- 
ing from  without  upon  one's  path  at  all.  It 
may  be  only  a  magnifying  of  those  strange  bril- 
liant things  which  one  sees  in  perfect  darkness, 


X 


THE  LIGHT   THE  CHRISTIAN  SEES.  87 

with  his  eyes  tightly  closed,  which  is  mistaken 
for  the  light  shining  from  heaven.  Theoretically, 
this  may  be  so,  but  I  do  not  think  that  anyone 
who  looks  at  the  actual  life  of  the  Christian 
world,  and  the  effect  produced  by  the  belief  in 
this  illumination,  can  bring  himself  to  think 
that  it  is  a  mere  fantasy.  To  the  Christian,  his 
Master  is  light  along  the  path  of  living.  He  is 
light  in  the  valley  of  the  shadow.  And  he  con- 
soles himself  with  the  serene  confidence,  that  for 
him  at  any  rate,  "at  eventide  it  shall  be  light." 


XVII. 

WHAT  IS  A  CHRISTIAN  ? 
"  XLbc  Msciples  were  calleD  Cbctstians  first  in  Bnti* 

OCb."— Acts  xi.  26. 

What  is  a  Christian  ?  It  ought  not  be  dif- 
ficult to  reply  to  this  question,  but  if  one  seri- 
ously sets  himself  to  do  so,  he  will  discover  it  is 
one  of  the  most  difficult  terms  to  define  that 
there  is  in  existence.  What,  for  example,  is  the 
essential  difference  between  a  Hebrew  elder  and 
A  a  Presbyterian  elder  or  an  Episcopalian  vestry- 
man, assuming  that  all  three,  so  far  as  their 
morality  and  uprightness  of  life  go,  are  equal  ? 
Theoretically,  the  difference  between  the  Jew 
and  the  Christian,  or  between  the  man  of  the 
world  and  the  Christian,  ought  to  be  palpable, 
but  it  is  not. 

Speaking  broadly,  there  have  been  three  defini- 
tions of  the  word  Christian  practically  accepted. 
The  first  is  what  may  be  called  the  popular  def- 
inition. In  its  judgment  it  turns  solely  upon 
the  degree  of  goodness  which  a  man  possesses. 
If  one  is  found  to  be  so  good — that  is,  so  honest, 
and  truthful,  and  pure,  and  kindly,  and  gentle 
— that  he  compels  the  admiration  of  men,  they 


X 


WHAT  IS  A  CHRISTIAN?  89 

point  to  him  and  say,  "  that  man  is  a  Christian." 
This  is  the  definition  which  underlies  most  of  the 
common  speech  upon  the  subject. 

The  second  definition  is  one  which  obtains  in  \^ 
certain  very  hirge  and  influential  circles  of  Chris- 
tian people  themselves.  It  may  be  called  the 
emotional  definition.  To  its  way  of  thinking, 
the  Christian  is  one  whose  life  and  character 
have  been  consciously  transformed  by  the  force 
of  an  interior  experience,  which  is  referred  to  as 
the  intiuence  of  Christ  working  upon  the  soul  by 
the  agency  of  His  Holy  Spirit.  It  refers  this  ex- 
perience, as  a  rule,  to  some  definite  point  of 
time  and  place.  It  says  a  Christian  is  a  man 
who  has  been  truly  converted.  By  that  it  means 
a  person  who  has  passed  through,  at  some  time 
or  other,  some  definite,  distinct  series  of  emotions 
which  he  can  recall  to  his  memory,  and  the 
stages  of  which  he  can  rehearse  with  distinctness. 
This  is  the  definition  which  would  be  accepted  by 
the  Salvation  Army,  and  by  all  who  are  in  sym- 
pathy with  its  mode  of  operation  and  speech. 

The  third  definition  may  for  convenience'  sake  y^ 
be  called  tlie  ecclesiastical   one.     According    to 


/\ 


o 


it,  a  Christian  is  one  who  has  been  made  so  by 
having  received  the  initiatory  rite  of  baptism,  and 
thus  having  been  made  a  member  of  the  outward 
and  visible  organization.  The  organization  itself 
is  clearly  defined,  and  is  called  the  Church  of 
Christ.  The  Christianity  of  such  a  one  is  meas- 
ured by    the  accuracy  of  his  obedience  to  ^he 


X 


90  WHAT  IS  A  CHRISTIAN  ? 

rules  and  regulations  of  tlie  society.  These  three 
definitions — the  ethical,  emotional,  and  ecclesias- 
tical— may  fairly  sum  up  all  the  attempts  that 
are  usually  made  to  define  what  is  a  Christian. 

Now,  will  any  of  these,  or  any  combination  of 
these,  of  necessity  i^roduce  that  sort  of  character 
which  was  "first  called  Christian  at  Antioch"  ? 
I  reply  that,  in  the  first  place,  all  the  char- 
acters described  above  may  be  produced  and,  in 
point  of  fact,  have  been  produced,  apart  from 
Christ  altogether.  There  have  been,  and  are, 
multitudes  of  good  men  avIio  have  never  heard  of 
Christ.  There  are  myriads  of  men  and  women 
who  have  passed  through  the  most  terrific  up- 
heavals of  religious  emotion,  whose  lives  are  any- 
thing but  what  the  Christian  standard  would 
require.  There  are  myriads  of  members  of  the 
ecclesiastical  organization  who  have  been  made 
so  by  regular  i)rocess,  and  who  scru]3ulously  obey 
all  the  mandates  of  the  association,  whose  spirit 
and  temper  are  clearly  alien  to  that  of  the  little 
band  of  followers  who  first  came  to  be  described 
as  Christians.  The  member  of  the  society  may 
be  utterly  ignorant  and  brutal.  A  man  whose 
religious  experience  has  been  most  cataclysmal, 
may  be  deepl}^  immoral.  A  man  in  whose  char- 
acter no  flaw  can  be  pointed  out,  may  still  be  en- 
tirely untouched  by  the  spirit  of  the  Master. 
What,  then,  was  the  intention  of  Jesus,  the 
A  Master,  with  regard  to  His  followers?  The  reply 
is  at  hand.     It  was  to  make  them  like  Himself. 


WHAT  IS  A  CHRISTIAN?  91 

At    this    point    many    hesitate.     They  say  •- 
"  That  is  impossible.     He,  you  know,  was  divine. 
He  approached  the  stern  problem  of  living  with 
a  supernatural   equipment  in  mind,  and  heart, 
and  soul,  which  is  different  in  kind,  and  not  alone 
in  degree  from  that  with  which  the  ordinary  man 
is  compelled  to  regulate  his  life."     But  that  wasA 
not  His  opinion.     He  challenged  His  followers  to 
follow  Him— that  is,  to  walk  in  His  footsteps— 
and  He  carried  this  demand  to  the  highest  power. 
He  bade  them  to  be  perfect— not  alone  as  He  was 
perfect,  but  as  their  Father,  who  is  in  heaven,  is_ 
perfect. 

To  say,  then,   what  is  a  Christian,  it  is  o^y 
needful  to  look  at  what  He  was  ;  to  see  what  His  \ 
attitude  toward  God,  toward  man,  and  toward 
life.     What,  in  fact,  was  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ?     It  should  not  be  forgotten  that  Christ 
was  the  first  Christian.     He  set  t lie  standard,  and 
men  are  Christians  or  not,  according  to  whether 
or  not  they  conform  to  that  standard.     What, 
then,  was  His  own  religious  consciousness  ?     In 
the  first  place  it  was  the  intense  conviction  that>( 
He  was  the  child  of  His  Father  in  heaven.     To 
Him  this  was  not  a  theological  dictum,  nor  any 
mystical  act  of  faith.     It  was  the  self-evident, 
every-day   fact  upon  which  He  proceeded.     He 
rested  securely  upon  the  affection  which  He  dis- 
cerned that  a  parent  must  feel  for  his  offspring. 
He   uncovered    the    fact    that    men's   salvation \.  w 
is  due,  not  so  much  to  the  fact  that  they  need  A  ^ 


>< 


92  WHAT  IS  A  CHRISTIAN? 

God,  as  that  God  needs  them.  This  was  the 
foundation  of  His  ovyn  religion.  He  was  more 
conscious  of  His  fatlier  in  heaven  tlian  He  was 
of  His  brethren  on  earth. 
.^  In  the  second  place,  out  of  this  profound  per- 
^  ception  of  the  reality  of  God's  affection  for  Him, 
s[)rang  the  way  in  which  He  regarded  other  men. 
He  asserted  that  they  were  His  kinsmen  ;  that 
they  were  kinsmen  of  one  another,  and  that  they 
were  the  offspring  of  God.  He  insisted  that 
they  should  think  of,  and  act  toward,  each  other 
as  brothers  of  the  same  blood.  But  He  insisted 
that  whatever  different  opinion  their  fellow-man 
may  have,  they  must  never  forget  that  his  action 
is  still  the  action  of  a  brother.  If  it  be  a  harm- 
ful or  hateful  action,  it  is  still  the  action  of  a 
brother.  One  must  deal  with  those  who  offend 
him,  and  persecute  him,  as  one  deals  with  the 
son  of  his  own  father  and  mother  who  deals  un- 
fnirly  with  him.  These  things  being  realized. 
He  asserted  that  life  would  be  changed  from  a 
held  wherein  each  one  sought  for  a  selfisli  accu- 
mulation of  his  own  things,  into  a  x^lace  where 
each  one  should  seek  the  other's  good.  He  says 
in  effect:  "This  is  My  way.  Follow  Me.  In 
proportion  as  you  follow  Me,  you  shall  become 
Christians." 

Now,  in  the  presence  of  this,  men  stand  hope- 
less. They  say  it  is  a  fair,  a  gracious  dream.  It 
is  an  idealist's  way  of  looking  at  life  and  men. 
It  cannot  be  put  into  practical  operation  in  a 


X 


WHAT  IS  A  CHRISTIAN?  93 

world  like  this.  It  would  have  been  possible  in*" 
Paradise,  or  it  may  become  possible  when  the 
millennium  comes,  but  in  a  world  of  flesh,  and 
blood,  and  matter  like  this,  it  is  an  idle  dream. 
Now,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  at  one  point,  and 
that  a  crucial  point  in  His  own  career,  He  felt 
the  same  way.  The  forty  days  of  his  temptation 
was  the  anguish  caused  by  this  feeling,  but  He 
fought  it  through  and  emerged  therefrom 
serenely,  and  started  upon  the  path  of  a  Chris- 
tian. The  path  was  arduous  to  the  last  degree, 
but  it  brought  for  Him  its  own  compensation.  It 
brought  for  Him  reviling  from  the  lips  of  a  wise 
world,  but  it  also  brought  to  Him  the  abiding 
love  of  the  best  of  the  human  race.  1  It  brought 
Him  to  the  cross,  but  being  steadfastly  persisted X  A 
in,  it  brought  him  out  of  the  tomb.  1  — 

To  be  a  Christian,  then,  is  to  deliberately  ven- 
ture upon  a  mode  of  life  which  the  world  pro- 
nounces impossible,  to  embark  upon  an  adventure 
which  He  Himself  'says  will  bring  the  cross.  \y- 
The  willingness  to  take  this  venture,  and  the 
steadfastness  to  abide  in  it,  in  spite  of  the  weight 
and  the  agony  of  the  cross  which  it  brings,  is  the 
mark  and  distinction  of  a  Christian. 


X 


X 

XVIII. 

WHO  IS  HE  ? 

**  fbc  asfteD  bis  Disciples,  saving  unto  tbcm,  Mbom  Do 
men  sas  tbat  IF  am  ?  BnD  tbe^  answereD,  5obn  tbc  J8ap= 
tist :  but  some  sag,  Silas,  an&  otbers,  ©ne  of  tbe  propb* 
ets.    BnD  be  saitb  unto  tbem,  aSut  wbom  sag  se  tbat  11 

am  ?  "—Mark  viii.  37-29. 

There  are  at  least  two  "Christs"  to-day  in 
human  thought.  That  is  to  say,  there  are  two 
conceptions  of  this  great  personality,  which  are 
entertained  by  so  entirely  distinct  classes  of 
people  that  there  may  be  said  to  be  two  Christs. 
)>(  The  first  is  the  Christ  of  popular  religion.  This 
conception  finds  expression  perhaps  in  the  most 
complete  and  uncompromising  form  from  the 
lips  of  the  exhorters  and  hallelujah  lasses  of  the 
Salvation  Army.  It  appears  in  Moody  and 
Sankey  hymns  ;  indeed,  it  finds  expression  in  a 
greater  or  lesser  number  of  the  hymns  in  every 
hymn  book.  It  conceives  of  Christ  in  one  or 
the  other  of  three  aspects  :  Either  he  is  a  pilgrim 
waiting  at  a  closed  door,  with  staff  in  hand,  with 
sandals  on  His  feet,  tired,  dusty,  with  a  weary 
face,  knocking,  knocking,  knocking,  waiting 
patiently  for  the  convenience  of  those  within  to 
open  the  door  ;  or  He  is  conceived  of  as  hanging 

94 


WHO  IS  HE  ?  96 

upon  a  cross  ;  or  else  as  a  judge  sitting  upon  a 
judgment  seat,  upon  the  lofty  platform  of  a 
semi-circular  assize,  within  wliich  are  multi- 
tudes of  men,  women,  and  children  from  every 
tribe,  tongue,  and  nation  under  heaven,  waiting 
their  turn  to  be  summoned  to  the  bar  and  to 
receive  their  sentence. 

These  three  presentations  practically  exhaust 
the  popular  idea  of  Christ.  I  do  not  say 
whether  they  are  true  or  false,  but  I  do  say 
that  they  are  inadequate,  and  that  no  one  of 
them  nor  all  three  of  them  together  can  ever  be 
rested  upon  finally  as  a  complete  conception  of  the 
Son  of  God.  But  a  somewhat  loose  combination 
of  these  constitutes  the  popular  idea  of  the  Christ. 

The  second  is  the  Christ  of  theology.  It  is^ 
difficult  to  characterize  this  conception  in  a  few 
strokes  so  that  it  will  be  recognized.  Let  us 
recall,  for  the  purpose  of  identifying  it,  the 
thought  about  Christ  which  lies  at  the  root 
of  the  great  theological  controversy  around  His 
person  which  took  place  centuries  ago.  It  is 
a  personality  constructed  out  of  metapliysical 
propositions.  It  has  no  flesh  and  blood,  nor 
has  it  much  in  it  which  one  can  recognize  of 
human  qualities  of  any  sort.  It  is  rather  the 
pre-existent  Christ — that  is  to  say,  the  Son  who 
was  before  the  incarnation.  About  this  con- 
ception raged  the  warfare  of  Arius,  Athanasius, 
of  the  Monothletes  and  the  Monophysites,  of 
"substance"  and  "ousia"  and  "  Kenosis  "  and^ 


XX 


XX 


96  WHO  IS  HE? 

such  ancient  phrases.  In  more  modern  days  it 
is  the  conception  of  Christ  about  which  Trini- 
tarians and  Unitarians  have  had  their  battle. 
The  spiritual  interest  of  our  age  seems  to  be 
working  loose  from  this  conception  of  Christ,  as 
it  is  from  the  Christ  of  the   hymn-book.     The 

V^one  seems  to  us  to  be  a  Christ  of  parchment, 
the  other  to  be  a  Christ  of  magic. 

"■  An  attempt  is  being  seriously  made,  therefore, 
to  reach  a  more  satisfactory  answer  to  the  second 
of  the  inquiries  of  our  Lord  contained  in  our 
text:  "Whom  say  ye  that  I  am?"  But  this 
question  cannot  be  answered  intelligently  until 
His  previous  inquiry  is  dealt  with  :  "  Whom  do 
men  say  that  I  am?"  If  men  have  answered 
wrongly  or  insufficiently,  the  error  and  inade- 
quacies of  their  answer  must  be  dealt  with.  This 
is  precisely  what  is  now  going  on.  The  Higher 
Criticism  is  simply  an  attempt  to  re-examine  the 
original  witnesses  and  ascertain  what  they 
actually  did  say  about  this  wonderful  Person. 
To  the  same  end  archaeology  and  theology  have 
addressed  themselves.  To  this  same  purpose 
Lives  of  Christ  have  been  written,  and  are  being 
read  more,  probably,  than  any  other  books. 
Liddon  and  Fairbairn  and  Harnack  and  Gore 
and  Bishop  Carpenter  and  Dr.  Edersheim  have 
all  been  occupied  with  the  same  task.  They 
are  attempting  to  reply  to  the  inquiry  which 
Christ     always    addresses    to     His     disciples: 

—  "Whom  do  men  say  that  I  am  ?" 


WHO  IS  HE?  97 

At  this  point  the  objection  is  generally  made  :— 
"  Why  raise  this  question  at  all?    It  is  settled. 
The  answer  was  given  and  understood  nineteen, 
or  at  least  sixteen,   centuries  ago.     Since  the 
formation  of  the  Catholic  Creeds  there  has  not 
only  been  no  necessity  for  any  such  re-examina- 
tion of  the  person  of  Christ,  but  the  loyal  Chris- 
tian is  debarred  from  going  behind  the  statements 
then  made,  or  modifying  them  in  any  way."     To 
this  objection  we  reply  that  it  may  be  well  or  ill 
taken,  but  it  is  beside  the  mark.     It  makes  little 
difference  whether  Christian  people  wish  to  face 
this  question  or  not,  they  have  no  choice.     The 
question  has  come  up.     It  clamors  for  an  answer, 
and  an  answer  of  some  sort  it  will  get  either  from 
those  who  have  the  right   to  make  it  or  it  will  V 
formulate  its  own  reply.     We  believe  it  is  always 
in  order,  and  always  will  be  so  long  as  Christian- 
ity endures,  which  will  be  as  long  as  humanity 
endures.     No  one  generation  of  men  ever  has,  or 
ever  will,  give  the  final,  exhaustive  definition  of 
Christ.     His  personality  is  too  great.     One  can- 
not define  God.     One  can  only  interpret  Him,  as 
the  generations  go  on,  in  terms  which  will  be  in- 
telligible to  each  generation.     That  the  concep-~~ 
tion  of  His  person  has  changed  from  time  to  time, 
can  be  seen  in  a  very  striking  way  by  looking  at 
the  expressions  by  which  Art  has  attempted  from  ><^^ 
time  to  time  to  portray  the  inmost  thought  of 
the  Christian  world.     Let  one  move  about  a  little 
while  amid   the    mediaeval  paintings  of  Christ-:- 


xy. 


XX 


98  WHO  IS  HE? 

and  look  intently  at  the  wan,  bloodless  figure 
and  features  there  x^ortrayed  ;  then  let  him  turn 
to  the  robust,  vigorous,  but  still  other  worldly 
Christ  of  the  Renaissance,  and  he  will  see  that 
he  is  in  the  presence  of  two  widely  contrasted 
conceptions  of  the  person  of  Christ.     Let  him 

'  then  turn  his  back  upon  both  these,  and  stand 
before  the  contemporary  Christ  by  Hoffman, 
Munkaczy,  Holman  Hunt,  or  Verestchagin,  and 
he  will  realize  that  he  has  again  passed  into  the 

__presence  of  a  still  more  widely  different  ideal. 
Should  all  this  disturb  the  Christian  ?  Should 
he  be  frightened  by  the  assertion  that  all  this 
argument  reduces  Christianity  to  a  figment  of 
the  imagination,  and  that  each  generation  may 
therefore  construct  its  own  figment  ?  None  but 
the  most  shallow-minded,  easily-frightened  soul 
will  be  disturbed  thereb}^  The  truth  is  that  the 
supreme  proof  of  the  divinity  of  Jesus  is  to  be 
found  in  this  universality,  which  provides  satis- 
faction for  not  only  the  spiritual  needs,  but  the 
intellectual  conceptions  of  successive  generations. 
And  it  does  all  this  without  going  outside  the 
circle  of  His  actual  being ;  nay,  without  even 
approaching  anywhere  near  the  frontier  of  that 
circle.  The  present  movement,  with  all  its 
faults,  must  be  pronounced  wholesome  and  full 
of  good  promise.  Its  outcome  will  be  a  contem- 
porary Christ,  intelligible  to  our  own  needs,  and 
whom  we  will  willingly  bow  before  and  hail  as, 

"  our  Lord  and  our  God  !  " 


XIX. 

RELIGION  AND  MORALITY. 

"  3Ss  tbeir  f ruite  ^e  sball  know  tbem."— Matthew  vii.  20. 

That  there  is   some   relation   between    men's" 
conduct   and  their  religious   belief  is  generally, 
conceded,   but  it  is  not  so  easy  to  see  precisely^ 
what   the   connection   is.     There    appear    to    be 
many  whose  conduct  is  irreproachable  who  seem 
to  have  no  clear  religious  convictions  whatever. 
There   are   many    whose   orthodoxy    is.  unques- 
tioned whose  conduct  is  far  from  being  what  it 
should.     It  brings  up   the  question,  Can  a  man 
be  what  we  call  good  if  he  be  not,   to  some  ex- 
tent at  least,  what  we  call  a  Christian  \     Call  iOy 
mind,  if  you  will,  a  discussion  which  was  startedA 
some  years  ago  by  an  unknown  paragraph  writer 
after  the  death  of  Mr.  Darwin   and   his  burial 
in  Westminster  Abbey.     Mr.  Darwin  was  not  a 
Christian  from  our   standpoint.     His  belief  was 
either  altogether  wanting  or  altogether  faulty, 
yet  when  his  biography  came  to  be  published,  it 
portrayed  a  life  so   clean,  so  sweet  and  kindly 
and  true,  that  it  might  appear  that  sucli   fruits\ 
could  only  spring  from  Christian  roots.     A  simi-_ 

9» 


100  RELIGION  AND  MORALITY. 

~lar  controversy  was  awakened  on  tlie  death  of 
Sir  Moses  Montefiore.  He  was  a  Jew,  a  Hebrew 
of  the  Hebrews,  yet  his  life  was  Christian  in  the 
highest  and  deepest  and  truest  sense.  One 
might  mention  in  the  same  way  such  naen  as  the 

/\  late  Mr.    Emerson,  the   great    Dr.    Leidy,    and 

others.     In    all    these    cases    their    conduct,  as 

tested  by  any  fair  standard,  must  be  pronounced 

worthy  in  the  very  highest  degree,  but  their  be- 

__  lief  was  either  wanting  or  erroneous. 

Is  there,  then,   any  essential  connection   be- 

V  tvveen  a  man's  religious  creed  and  his  moral 
life?    There  are    two    classes  of    persons    who 

■s.  answer  No  to  tliis  question.     The  first  is  the  sec- 

"^  ularist.  He  asserts  that  uprightness  of  life  is 
entirely  independent  of  one's  theological  or  re- 
ligious convictions.  That  life,  he  says,  is  best 
administered  which  takes  the  least  account  of 
any  other  possible  life.     A  negative  answer  is 

X  also  given  by  a  large  class  of  deeply  religious 
peoi3le.  The  evangelical  declares  that  salvation 
is  by  "  faith."  By  faith  he  does  not  mean  the 
belief  in  any  set  of  doctrinal  propositions,  but 
a  mystical  intercourse  between  the  soul  itself 
and  God.  He  is  rather  jealous  than  otherwise  of 
good   works.     He  separates  goodness  into    two 

yC^  kinds— one  of  them  he  calls  Religion,  and  the 
^^other  he  calls  Morality. 

Now,  we  should  dismiss  both  these  classes  of 

^  objectors  as  mere  theorists.  The  one  is  the 
theoretical  moralist,  the  other  is  the  theoretical 


RELIGION  AND  MORALITY.  101 

religionist.  They  are  too  logical  by  half.  The 
experience  of  practical  men,  who  take  the  com- 
plex and  contradictory  facts  of  life  as  they  are,  is 
against  them  both.  The  common  sense  of  men  V 
goes  with  Christ  when  He  declares  that  "  you 
cannot  gather  grapes  of  thorns,  nor  figs  of 
thistles,"  and  when  He  says  that  "  he  that  doeth 
my  will  shall  understand  my  doctrine." 

The  truth  of  the  principle  of  our  text  to  the— 
facts  of  human  life  is  best  seen  when  we  look  at 
those  facts  upon  a  large  scale.     The  lawlessness 
of  the  restless  Greeks  projected   itself  outward 
and    upward,   and    constructed   their  turbulent 
gods,  who  brawled  and  intrigued  in  Olympus. 
The  Hindoo  lasciviousness  of  life  expresses  itself 
in  their  obscene  idols.     The  agnostic  disbelief  my 
God  manifests  itself  in  disbelief  in  man.     Jesus 
assertion  is  clearly  true.     Wherever  that  kind  of 
life  is  seen  which  we  have  come  to  recognize  as 
Christian,  he  implies  that  the  doctrine  of  that 
man  must  be  Christian,   even  though  the  man 
himself  be  unconscious  of  it.     "  His  creed  can- 
not be  wrong  whose  life  is  in  the  right."  ~ 

It  is  startling  to  see  how  entirely  Jesus  adopts 
this  principle.  He  makes  conduct  the  test  in  His 
final  classification  of  men.  "Inasmuch  as  ye 
have  done  it  to  one  of  the  least  of  these  myX^ 
brethren,"  or  "inasmuch  as  ye  have  not  done  it 
to  one  of  these"  your  destiny  is  fixed.  Your 
conduct  is  your  own  announcement  of  your  own 
character.  ^ 


102  RELIGION   AND   MORALITY. 

Now,  taking  this  principle  in  onr  hand,  we 
have  a  key  to  some  of  the  gravest  practical  per- 
plexities which  concern  us.  For  example,  it  en- 
V  ables  us  in  the  religious  realm  to  discover  and 
identify  the  Church.  Among  all  the  rival  organ- 
izations, each  and  all  claiming  to  be  Churches, 
how  shall  a  man  know  the  Church  when  he  sees 
it?  It  is  very  common  to  apply  the  test  of  his- 
tory— that  is,  to  maintain  that  a  particular  organi- 
zation reaches  in  an  unbroken  line  to  the  begin- 
ning of  tilings  and  thus  proves  itself  to  be  the 
Church.  It  is  very  common  to  appeal  to  ortho- 
doxy— that  is,  to  establish  by  logical  proc- 
esses that  the  doctrines  of  a  particular  organiza- 
tion are  logically  coherent  and  capable  of  proof. 
These  contentions  are  both  valuable  for  certain 
purposes,  but  not  for  this  one.  The  appeal  is  to 
V  Vlife.  That  is  the  true  Christian  Church  wldeh 
actually  produces  Christians .  If  it  fail  to  do 
this,  neither  its  pedigree,  nor  its  orthodoxy,  nor 
its  propriety,  nor  its  magnitude,  nor  its  power, 
nor  any  other  qiuility  whatsoever  will  vindicate 
its  claim  to  the  name  of  Church.  The  test  is 
most  exacting.  It  is  so  hard  to  bear,  that  those 
others  which  we  have  named  are  almost  alwaj's 
preferred  before  it.  Nevertheless,  it  is  the  final 
test  which  Christ  imposes  upon  the  Church  as 
He  does  upon  the  individual. 

The  same  principle  is  the  key  to  the  intrinsic 

X  truth  of  Creeds.     Tlie  appeal  here  again  is  not  to 

Scripture,  nor  to  antiquity,  nor  to  logic,  and  cer- 


RELIGION  AND  MORALITY.  103 

tainly  is  not  to  force,  whether  the  force  express 
itself  through  the  familiars  of  the  Inquisition  or 
the  anathema  of  a  Church  Council.  The  appeal \^ 
again  is  to  life.  Those  doctrines  are  Christian,  '^ 
and  are  true,  which  produce,  in  the  individuals 
who  hold  them,  that  manner  of  life  which  Jesus 
demands. 

Once  more,  it  gives  the  answer  to  the  most 
pressing  and  probably  the  most  painful  of  allV 
questions — that  is,  as  to  one's  own  acceptance 
with  God.  To  find  relief  in  his  distress,  and  to 
decide  what  his  condition  actually  is,  a  man  is 
often  mistakenly  bidden  to  look  within,  to  ex- 
amine his  own  experiences,  to  observe  his  own 
feelings.  Nothing  could  be  more  hopeless,  noth- 
ing could  be  more  useless.  He  is  not  to  look 
within — he  is  to  look  at  his  life.  If  he  find  him- 
self doing  and  loving  the  things  which  Jesus 
bids,  he  may  be  confident  that  he  is  believing  the 
things  which  Jesus  believes.  He  does  not  test 
the  flavor  of  the  fruit  of  his  life  either  by  digging 
down  to  examine  its  roots  or  by  vainly  trying 
to  force  it  to  bear  flowers,  but  by  looking 
honestly  at  the  fruits  to  see  whether  or  not  they 
are  wholesome,  well-flavored,  and  good  to  sustain 
life — or  whether  they  are  shrunken,  blighted, 
and  bitter. 


XX. 

THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

*'  Zbc^  were  astoniebeC)  at  bis  Doctrine  :  for  be  taucjbt 
tbem  as  one  tbat  baO  autborit^,  anD  not  as  tbe  scribes." 

—Mark  i.  23. 

Religion  is  an  excessively  difficult  thing. 
And  the  most  difficult  of  all  religions  is  the 
religion  of  Christ.  It  bids  its  adherent  to  do  a 
thousand  things  which  he  does  not  like  to  do. 
It  bids  him  refrain  from  a  thousand  alluring 
things  which  he  wishes  to  do.  In  a  word,  it 
insists  upon  his  conducting  his  life  after  a  very 
arduous  fashion.  Now,  any  institution  or  any 
master  who  lays  such  burdensome  obligations 
upon  one  must  be  a  master  who  is  able  to  speak 
with  authority.  Wherein  rests  the  authority 
of  Christianity?  Why  should  we  do  what  it 
commands  ?  Why  should  we  avoid  what  it  for- 
bids ?  And,  most  difficult  of  all,  why  should  we 
accept  as  true  its  very  marvelous  and  difficult 
doctrine?  What  is  the  authority,  and  where  is 
it  to  be  found  ? 

There  are    two   places    in   which    it   has   fre- 

Xv  quently  been  sought.     The  first  is  a  written  code 

called  a  Bible.     The  second  is  an  authoritative 


THE  AUTHORITY   OF  CHRISTIANITY.  105 

corporation  called  the  Church.     "  Hear  the  Word' 
and  obey  it,"  says  one  class  of  people.     "Hear 
the  Church  and  obey  it,"  says  another  class  of, 
people.     Both  these  assume  that  their  particulnrX 
authority  speaks   with   clearness,  and   must   be 
obeyed  under  penalty.     Let  us  examine  these  a 
little.     There  are  many  probably  who,  without"" 
much  thought,  would  accept  the  statement  that 
"the  Bible  is  the  sole  rule  of  faith  and  prac- 
tice."    Now,   let  us  see   what  this  implies.     It 
implies  that  God   has  written  down  a  detailed 
code  of  rules  and  regulations  which  are  appli- 
cable to  every  situation  in  life,  and  which  are  so 
plain  that  any  man  may  comprehend  them,  and 
that  they  are  actually  in  the  possession  of  every 
human    being   who  is   to  be  judged   by   them. 
When  one  looks  closely,  however,   he  sees  that 
not   a   single  one  of  these  requirements  is  ful-\. 
filled.     The    Christian   society,    as  a  matter    of^ 
fact,   had   been   in   existence   for  centuries,  had 
organized  itself,  and  had  accomplished  its  best 
work  before  it  actually  had  a  Bible  in  its  hands 
at  all.     Tlien,   again,    the    collection    of    books 
which  we  call  the  Bible,  is  a  fragmentary  sur- 
vival of  a   far  larger  religious  literature  of   the 
early  Church,  the  greater  portion  of  which  has 
disappeared.     And    yet    again,    it    is    notorious 
that  with  regard  to   many  important   practical 
affairs   there   is   the   widest   disagreement    even 
among  devout  Christians  as   to  Avhat   the  Bible 
actually   does   teach   or   command.     So   that   it 


106  THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

appears  upon  examination  that  this  source  of 
authority,  while  it  may  be  of  value  theoretically, 
is  practically  not  workable.  Even  the  man  who 
professes  himself  most  ready  to  accept  the  Bible 
as  his  final  authority  on  all  subjects,  exercises  his 

Vown  authority  in  the  very  act  of  accepting  what 
he  thereafter  regards  as  a  superior  authority. 
And  even  when  he  has  done  so,  it  is  notorious 
that  he  has  formally  prostrated  himself  before 
an  authority  which  does  not  actually  control  his 
conduct.  He  himself  would  probably  be  the 
first  to  confess  this. 

The  second  position  is  even  less  satisfactory, 

X,  when  it  comes  to  be  tried  by  the  hard  test  of 
actual  experiment.  Submit  yourself  to  the 
authority  of  the  Church,  such  an  one  says.  See 
now  what  this  involves.  It  implies  that  in  the 
first  place  God  has  at  some  point  in  history 
selected  a  society  of  men  to  whom  he  has 
intrusted  His  secrets,  and  to  whom  He  has  dele- 
gated His  authority.  It  implies  further  that 
this  is  not  only  a  de  jure,  but  also  a  de  facto, 
authority  ;  that  it  possesses  the  wisdom  to  issue 
rules,  to  hear  causes,  to  pronounce  judgments 
which  are,  so  far  forth,  the  very  acts  and  judg- 
ments of  God  himself.  This  is  very  well  as  a 
theory,  but  it  is  beset  with  insuperable  practi- 
cal difficulties.  For  example,  one  must  say: 
"Before  I  thus  accept  the  Church's  authority,  I 
must  in  my  own  mind  at  least  pass  upon  its 
credentials.      I   must  ask   why    it   professes   to 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  107 

speak  in  the  name  of  God.  This  means  that  I 
must  examine  its  history,  its  constitution  ;  that 
I  must  learn  who  and  where  and  what  it  is 
before  I  submit  myself  to  its  guidance." 

Now,  please  to  observe  that  in  this  examination 
we  are  in  search  of  an  authority  which  will  not 
only  awaken  a  sense  of  obligation,  but  which  can 
actually  get  itself  obeyed.  Neither  of  the  two 
which  we  have  thus  briefly  noticed  have  so  far 
been  able  to  comj^el  obedience.  The  most 
extravagant  Protestants  have  never  actually 
obeyed  the  mandates  of  the  Bible,  at  least 
according  to  the  opinion  which  each  sect  has  of 
all  the  others.  The  most  ultra  Romanist  could 
not  assert  that  the  Church  had  ever  been  able  to 
secure  the  obedience  to  her  commands  which  is 
desirable.  In  both  cases  the  authority  is  not 
much  more  than  a  theory.  What  the  every-day 
man  wants  is  to  be  brought  into  the  presence  of 
some  divine  master  whose  right  to  command  will 
become  evident  the  instant  he  stands  in  such  a 
master's  presence,  and  to  find  an  authority 
which  will  either  convince  his  judgment  or  over- 
awe his  conscience.  He  wants  some  person  who 
will  bid  him  do  the  right,  bid  him  in  such  stern 
tones  that  his  reluctant  will  will  bend  ;  who  will 
solicit  him  to  high  and  holy  things,  and  solicit 
him  in  such  gracious  and  attractive  manner  that 
his  heart  will  go  out  to  meet  the  master  at  least 
halfway. 

This  craving  and  necessity  of  the  religious 


108  THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

""  nature  is  the  one  which  Jesus  satisfied.  He 
spake  not  as  the  Scribes,  with  the  authority  of 
Scripture,  nor  as  the  Pharisees,  with  the  au- 
thority of  the  Church,  but  as  God,  who  speaks 
straight  to  ^and  is  understood  by  the  divine 
faculty  which  remains,  even  in  ruins,  in  the 
nature  of  every  man.  1  I  maintain,  therefore,  that 
the  only  possible  authority  in  the  realm  of 
\/  y  religion  is  the  actual,  living  Christ. \  What  we 
are  in  search  of  is  the  answer  not  to  an  intel- 
lectual, but  to  a  moral,  question.  "What  must 
I  do  to  be  saved?"  To  this  end  it  is  necessary 
to  go  back,  straight  x>ast  the  Church,  past  the 
Bible  into  the  very  presence  of  the  Son  of  Man. 
The  soul  when  it  once  stands  in  His  presence 
bows  itself  spontaneously.  The  will  which  is 
touched  by  His  will,  yields  itself  to  the  divine 
.^  solicitations. 

"  But,"  it  is  objected,  "this  is  impossible. 
All  that  we  know  of  Him  we  learn  through  the 
medium  either  of  the  Bible  or  of  the  Church. 
You  now  ask  us  to  disregard  both  these,  who  are 
our  only  teachers,  and  to  seek  for  a  personal 
interview  with  the  Master  Himself.  This  is 
impossible.  He  has  gone.  He  has  left  the 
record  of  Himself,  and  we  can  only  know  Him 
through  the  record."  This  is  true,  but  being  so 
treated,  the  question  of  the  authority  of  the 
record  does  not  rise  at  all.  It  is  to  be  used  at 
this  stage  just  as  the  facts  of  life  are  ordinarily 
used  by  everybody — that  is,  without  examina- 


THE  AUTHORITY  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  109 

tion,  without  any  special  thought.  In  point  of 
fact,  the  image  of  Christ  is  more  vivid  in  theX 
world  than  is  that  of  any  other  personality  what- 
soever. He  lives  and  is  present,  and,  within 
Christendom  at  least,  everybody  knows  who  and 
wliat  He  is.  The  Bible  and  the  Church  have 
introduced  the  world  to  Him,  but  when  one  is 
led  into  the  presence  chamber  of  a  king  it  be- 
comes a  matter  of  comparatively  small  moment 
who  his  introducer  has  been :  the  real  question 
is  concerning  his  royalty.  Has  he  or  has  he  not 
a  countenance  to  command  ?  Is  he  or  is  he  not 
every  inch  a  king?  Actually  the  authority  of^^ 
Christ  manifests  itself  in  His  self-evident  divinity. 
The  soul  that  is  to  any  degree  in  sympathy  with 
Him,  and  with  God,  recognizes  Him  and  submits 
its  life  to  His  guidance. 

Having  done  so,  the  literature  which  we  call^ 
the  Scripture  becomes  intelligible.  It  ceases  to 
be  thought  of  as  a  substitute  for  an  absent  Christ, 
and  is  seen  to  be,  what  it  actually  is,  the  liturgy 
which  sings  the  praises  of  a  living  Lord.  The 
Church  ceases  for  such  an  one  to  be  a  hard,^ 
unlovely  political  organization  which  deals  in 
laws  and  penalties,  and  comes  to  be  seen  as  it  is, 
the  family  whose  elder  brother  is  the  Master, 
whose  father  is  the  Father  in  heaven,  and  the 
rule  of  whose  household  is  the  law  of  love.  ^ 


XXI. 

THE  FAULTY  MORAL  NATURE. 

"  Ibavlng  tbc  unOcrstanDing  Darhene^,  bctng  aKenateD 
from  tbe  life  of  OoD  tbrougb  tbe  ignorance  tbat  is  in 
tbem,  because  of  tbe  blinDnese  of  tbeir  beart."— Ephe- 

SIANS  iv.  18. 

~"  The  words  "  life  of  God  "  in  this  text  may  be 
taken  to  mean  either  religious  doctrine  or  reli- 
gious conduct.  That  is  to  say,  it  may  refer  to 
what  people  believe  in  the  sphere  of  religion,  or 
to  what  they  do  or  leave  undone  from  religious 
motives.  Now,  it  is  perfectly  evident  that  there 
are  thousands  of  people  who  do  not  possess  any 
knowledge  of  God,  whichever  sense  may  be 
\/  attached  to  the  phrase.  Practically  God  is  for 
them  either  non-existent  or  is  only  an  idea.  The 
idea  is  vague,  impalpable,  does  not  come  actually 
within  the  range  of  their  every-day  experience. 
Suppose  it  should  be  demonstrated  to-morrow, 
for  example,  by  some  new  discovery  in  the  phys- 
ical sciences,  or  by  some  new  process  of  logic, 
that  God  is  non-existent,  that  humanity  up  to 
this  point  has  been  deceived  in  believing  in  the 
existence  of  such  a  being.  Is  it  not  true  that 
__  there  are  thousands  of  human  beings  in  whom 

110 


THE  FAULTY  MORAL  NATURE.       HI 

such  a  discovery  would  not  compel  any  conscious 
change  of  life  ?  The  world  to  them  would  go  on 
precisely  as  it  does  now.  They  would  not  feel 
practically  conscious  of  any  loss.  They  would  y 
not  weep  over  the  destruction  of  God.  They  \ 
would  not  even,  like  a  decadent  Greek,  cry  out 
in  anguish  :  "  Great  Pan  is  dead  !  "  The  reason 
is  that  God  is  not  a  conscious  element  in  their 
living  at  all. 

Probably  not  a  few  would  acknowledge  this. 
If  they  should  be  asked  why  it  is  that  so  tremen- 
dous a  fact  as  God  is  not  practically  needed  by 
them,  they  would  say  :  "  We  do  not  think  very 
much  about  God,  or  the  subject-matter  of  re- 
ligion, chietiy  on  account  of  the  uncertainty  and 
obscurity  of  its  alleged  facts.  Take,  for  ex- 
ample," they  would  saj^,  "  such  common  religious 
conceptions  as  those  of  prayer,  providence,  im- 
mortality, the  incarnation  of  God  in  Christ. 
These  things  may  be  true,  or  may  be  false  ;  we 
do  not  deny  them,  we  do  not  accept  them.  The 
truth  is  our  minds  are  so  constituted  that  they 
do  not  take  hold  of  them  in  any  real  sense."  This 
explanation  may  be  offered  in  perfect  good  faith. 
They  have  not  the  knowledge  of  God  because,  to 
their  way  of  thinking,  anything  worthy  of  the 
name  of  knowledge  concerning  God  is  not 
attainable. 

St.  Paul,  in  the  text  and  elsewhere,  assigns, 
however,  an  altogether  different  explanation  for 
this  ignorance.     He  says  that  men  are  destitute 


112  THE  FAULTY   MORAL  NATURE. 

of  the  knowledge  of  God,  not  because  sucli 
knowledge  is  vague  and  elusive,  not  because  it 
is  unattainable,  and  not  because  it  is  unimpor- 
tant. The  facts,  he  says,  are  not  iinaginaiy. 
They  are  the  most  real  facts  in  existence — more 
real,  indeed,  than  the  facts  of  every-day  life.  He 
ventures  to  say  that  the  things  which  are  seen 
are  temporal,  whereas  those  things  which  are 
unseen  are  abiding.  He  asserts  that  the  evidence 
for  them,  if  it  be  sought  in  the  right  quarter,  is 
overwhelming  and  conclusive — that  any  man  can 
reach  it  if  he  wishes.  But  he  makes  the  asser- 
\/tion  that  the  reason  why  men  do  not  see  God  is 
^  because  their  moral  nature  is  so  faulty  that  they 
cannot. 

Right  here  men  protest,  and  frequently  with  a 
feeling  of  anger.  They  reply  to  one  who  takes 
St.  Paul's  position:  "No;  we  will  not  permit 
you  to  say  that.  We  are  skeptics — yes  ;  we  are 
not  ashamed  of  it.  If  knowledge  were  within  our 
reach  on  these  important  subjects  we  would  accept 
it  and  utilize  it.  But  we  will  not  permit  you  to 
say  that  we  are  unbelievers  or  doubters  because 
we  are  immoral — that  will  not  do.  If  it  comes  to 
a  comparison  of  character  between  ourselves  and 
those  who  profess  and  call  themselves  Christians, 
while  we  do  not  seek  for  such  a  comparison,  yet 
we  will  not  shrink  from  it.  Tried  by  any  rea- 
sonable test  of  morality,  our  lives  are  as  good  as 
the  lives  of  those  who  assert  more  or  less  loudly 
that  they  possess  the  knowledge  of  God." 


THE  FAULTY   MORAL  NATURE.  113 

Now,  this  confession  of  theirs  may  be  true, — 
very  likely  it  is, — for,  indeed,  God  is  not  much 
more  than  a  theoretical  admission  with  any  of 
us.  Bat,  however  far  the  Christian  may  fall 
short  of  his  profession,  St.  Paul  is  right,  and 
the  conscience  of  humanity  knows  that  he  is 
right.  1  It  is  willful  wrongness  of  life  which^ 
causes  unwillful disbelief .  1  It  is  the  "fool,"  that 
is  to  say,  the  wicked  man,  who  has  said  in  his 
heart  there  is  no  God.  If  you  turn  your  thought 
away  for  a  moment  from  the  consideration  of 
individuals  to  the  consideration  of  masses  of 
humanity  at  certain  periods,  you  will  see  that 
this  is  true.  Take  by  way  of  illustration  two"" 
well-known  periods  in  modern  history  ;  one  is 
the  latter  half  of  the  eighteenth  century  in  Eng- 
land, and  the  other  is  the  period  of  the  revolu- 
tion in  France.  They  were  both  characterized  by 
widespread  religious  disbelief.  The  knowledge 
of  God  seemed  to  the  casual  observer  to  have 
disappeared  completely  from  the  purview  of 
humanity.  But  to  the  historian  who  studies 
carefully  either  of  these  periods,  it  becomes  evi-  /\ 
dent  that  the  moral  debauchery  was  not  the 
effect,  but  the  cause,  of  the  religious  skepticism. 
It  was  because  for  various  reasons  men  did  not 
wish  to  retain  God  in  all  their  thoughts  that  they 
fell  into  all  "  wretchlessness  of  evil  living." 
When  the  faith  returned,  or  began  to  return,  as  it 
did  in  the  first  quarter  of  this  present  century,  it 
returned  as  the  result  of  the  recovery  of  morale 


X 


114  THE   FAULTY  MORAL  NATURE. 

purity.     But    the    moral    elevation   came   back 
before  the  religious  belief  returned. 

This  principle  lies  at  the  very  root  of  the  teach- 
ing of  Jesus  Christ.     "  If  any  man  wills  to  keep 
my  commandments,  he  shall  learn  of  my  doctrine 
whether    or   not   it  be   from    God."     "He  that 
doeth    my    will    shall   know   of   my  doctrine." 
"Blessed  are  the  pure  in  heart,  for  they  shall 
see   God."      These  are  not  mere  obiter  dicta. 
The  connection   is  quite  easily    traceable.     For 
example,  the  self-indulgent  man  who  refuses  to 
be  disturbed  in  the  ease  and  comfort  of  his  life 
by    human    wrongs,  and   is   untouched   by   the 
si)ectacle  of  human  wretchedness,  who  is  unwill- 
ing to  lift  a  finger  to  alleviate  humanity's  dis- 
tress, such  a  man  is  incapable  of  any  real  knowl- 
edge of  God.     He  cannot  know  Him  because  he 
has     no     sympathy     with    Him.     The    relation 
between  God  and  man  is  a  relation  between  per- 
sons,   and,    in  order    to   real    acquaint;! nceship 
between  persons,  there  must  be  to  some  extent 
sympathy  in  character      Or  again,  the  greedy, 
rapacious,    unscrupulous,  dishonest  man   comes 
very  quickly  to  disbelieve  in  future  rewards  or 
punishments.     His  sense  of  justice  fades  away 
because  his  practice  of  justice  fii-st  disappears. 
He    loses    the    spiritual    faculty    which    keeps 
account  of  such  a  fact,  and  therefore  with  liim 
the  fact  ceases  to  be  a  fact.     Or,  the  frivolous, 
capricious,     dainty,     selfish    woman     loses     all 
capacity  of   insight   into   spiritual  things.     She 


THE  FAULTY  MORAL   NATURE.  115 

has  no  synipatliy  witli  them.  So  also,  sins  of  the 
flesli  surely  obliterate  one's  own  sense  of  divinity. 
The  obscene  man  ceases  to  believe  himself  to  be  in 
any  sense  divine,  and  it  quickly  follows  that  the 
divinity  that  (here  is  in  the  universe  comes  to 
him  to  be  non  existent.  Serving  Mammon  makes 
Mammon  to  be  to  its  worshiper  the  only  true  god. 
It  is  this  principle  which  relieves  God's  exact- 
ing command  for  belief  from  the  charge  of 
unreasonableness  and  inequity.  If  religio.is 
belief  depended  ux)on  intellectual  capacity,  men 
are  so  unequally  endowed  in  this  possession  that 
it  would  be  unfair  to  hold  them  to  the  same 
standard  in  regard  to  their  possession  or  lack  of 
faith.  Yet,  since  God  appeals  not  to  the  undei- 
standing,  but  to  the  conscience,  and  since  con- 
science is  the  faculty  which  is  possessed  by  all 
men,  and  which  is  largely  independent  of  intel- 
lectual advancement,  but  is  cultivable  by  the 
learned  and  unlearned  alike,  therefore  God  makes 
His  appeal  to  that  capacity  which  is  constant, 
abiding,  and  eternal  in  all  men,  and  which,  so 
long  as  it  retains  its  own  consciousness,  can  look 
God  in  the  face  and  bow  before  Him  in  adora- 
tion. But  if  it  becomes  obtunded  or  dulled, 
then  the  whole  universe  of  divineness  becomes 
non-existent. 


XXII. 

SATAN'S  DIVIDED  KINGDOM. 
"  Iff  Satan  be  CttvtDcD  against  bimself,  bow  eball  bts 

F?in0Dom  StanD  1  "—Luke  xi.  18. 

A  MARKED  peculiarity  of  Christianity  is  to  be 
found  in  the  fact  that  its  members  always  look 
forward  with  confidence  to  a  good  time  coming. 
By  this  they  mean  a  good  time,  not  necessarily 
a  happy  time.  They  mean  a  time  when  moral 
goodness  shall  become  dominant  and  evil  shall, 
little  by  little,  be  brought  under  foot  and  finally 
crushed  out.  It  is  moral  hopefulness  which 
really  is  the  spring  out  of  which  flows  all  the 
peculiar  activities  of  Christendom.  Why  do 
Christians  look  for  this  ?  As  they  take  their  stand 
at  any  particular  point  in  the  progress  of  the 
world,  and  look  about  them,  the  world  is  filled 
with  evil.  They  are  confronted  with  bad  men, 
bad  things,  bad  institutions.  They  look  these  in 
the  face  serenely,  and  expect  that  they  shall  all 
ultimately  either  pass  away  or  be  transformed 
and  have  their  places  taken  by  good  men,  good 
institutions,  and  good  things.  But  really  it  looks 
as  though  the  experience  of  life  were  sufficient 
to  crush  out  this  expectation  of  a  good  time  to 

116 


SATAN'S  DIVIDED   KINGDOM.  117 

come.  In  tlie  text  that  we  have  to-day,  Jesus 
illuminates  the  whole  situation  by  a  single  ex- 
pression, as  by  a  flash  of  lightning,  revealing  the 
principle  which  lies  at  the  bottom  of  it  all.  He 
points  out  that  the  kingdom  of  evil  is  divided. 
It  contains  within  itself  the  causes  and  the 
pledge  of  its  own  ultimate  destruction.  Satan's 
kingdom  is  divided.  Wherever  there  are  two 
devils  they  quarrel,  and  where  there  is  only  one, 
he,  by  the  very  necessity  of  his  own  being,  slowly 
commits  suicide.  The  pledge  of  the  future  tri- 
umph of  goodness,  then,  is  in  the  fact  that  evil 
cannot  hold  together. 

I  know  that  there  is  a  vague  sort  of  feeling 
that  the  converse  of  this  is  true.  In  our  moods 
of  moral  despondency  we  are  apt  to  fancy  that 
wrong  is  a  great,  mighty,  well-organized  army  ; 
that  it  moves  toward  its  own  ends  by  well- 
calculated  methods,  and  that  the  good  is  always 
at  a  disadvantage  in  the  presence  of  it.  If  one 
looks  no  further,  he  is  like  to  be  filled  with  a 
feeling  of  despair.  He  says  goodness  is  identi- 
fied with  weakness  ;  evil  is  strong  because  it  is 
unscrupulous.  Now,  for  anyone  who  is  in  this 
mood,  it  will  be  well  to  seriously  consider  two 
facts.  The  first  is  the  moral  advance  of  the  race  V 
as  a  whole.  No  one  will  question  that  the  moral 
status  of  the  race  is  infinitely  better  to-day  tlian 
it  was  three  or  four  thousand  years  ago.  It  has 
steadfastly  moved  forward,  through  primeval 
bestiality  ;  through  savage  turbulence,  and  vio- 


118  SATAN'S  DIVIDED  KINGDOM. 

lence,  and  cunning,  and  cruelty,  and  lust ; 
through  barbarism  and  semi-civilization,  until  it 
has  reached  the  point  where  it  is  to-day.  But  it 
has  left  most  of  its  faults  behind  it.  Now,  why 
has  it  done  so?  One  may  answer,  "  It  has  been 
due  to  the  force  of  civilization."  But  that  is 
simi^ly  to  say  the  same  thing  another  way;  it 
is  not  at  all  to  give  a  reason  or  explanation  for 
it.     It  is  due  to   the  fact  that  the  evil  against 

)/ which  the  good  of  life  is  compelled  to  contend, 
always  disorganizes  itself  and  ultimately  disap- 
pears. It  is  due  to  the  fact  that  right  is  strong, 
and  wrong,  with  all  its  boastfulness  and  cunning, 
is  weak.  In  the  long  run  good  triumphs  over  the 
devil. 

Or,  regard  again  another  fact,  even  more  strik- 
ing, within  a  smaller  area,  and  which  has  mani- 
fested its  phenomena  within  a  shorter  period. 

A I  mean  tlie  development,  growth,  and  progress 
of  the  Christian  Church.  That  institution  is  one 
which  from  the  beginning  has  been  organized 
around  the  idea  of  righteousness.  It  has  been  its 
purpose  to  keep  alive  this  idea,  to  feed  it,  to  re- 
vive it  when  it  became  faint,  and  to  ultimately 
secure  its  triumph.  Now,  at  tlie  beginning  there 
was  never  a  more  quixotic  idea  suggested  than 
the  establishment  of  the  Church.  It  was  a  lit- 
tle, insignificant,  apparently  loosely  organized 
society,  which  set  itself  up  and  undertook  to 
make  head  against  the  most  corrupt,  and  at  the 
same  time  the  most  highly  organized,  institution 


SATAN'S  DIVIDED  KINGDOM.  119 

that  the  world  lias  ever  seen.  It  was  a  little 
band  of  idealists  against  the  whole  Roman 
Empire.  But  the  facts  show  that  it  has  steadily 
made  head  against  all  opposition.  It  has  had  in 
it  the  power  from  time  to  time  to  throw  oif  its 
own  abuses,  to  correct  its  own  faults,  to  recur 
again  constantly  to  its  central  organizing 
principle,  and  having  taken  a  fresh  draught  of 
truth  from  the  spring  which  rests  within  itself, 
it  has  gone  out  again  refreshed  to  its  battle 
against  the  world  of  evil.  All  hostile  organiza- 
tions have  gone  down  before  it.  All  false 
churches  one  after  another  disappear.  The 
gates  of  hell  really  have  not  prevailed  against  it. 
Now,  why?  It  is  feeble,  relatively.  Its  weapons 
are  not  striking,  and  its  organization  is  ap- 
l^arently  of  the  very  simplest.  It  has  succeeded 
because  it  has  for  its  adversary  a  power  which 
always  has  traitors  in  its  own  camp.  The  devil" 
can  never  count  on  the  loyalty  of  his  own  forces. 
His  kingdom  is  organized  around  the  principle  of 
individual  selfishness,  and  where  that  principle 
is  recognized,  the  individual  always  seeks  his  \/ 
own.  However  he  may  declare  that  he  is  work-  ^ 
ing  for  the  good  of  the  devil's  kingdom,  he  is 
really  working  for  himself.  He  will  throw  the 
devil  overboard  without  scruple  if  he  can  win 
by  it.  "" 

The  ordinary  experience  and  observation  of 
life  bears  out  tliis  fundamental  truth  of  Christ. 
We  say,  "When  rogues  fall  out  honest  men  will 


120  SATAN'S  DIVIDED  KINGDOM. 

get  their  due."  We  say  it  because  we  expect 
confidently  that  rogues  will  fall  out.  It  is  im- 
possible in  the  nature  of  the  case  that  their  league 
shall  be  abiding.  The  Psalmist  observed  long- 
ago  that  "  the  wicked  man  does  not  live  out  half 
his  days."  In  any  community,  in  any  city  com- 
munity, at  any  rate,  there  is  probably  a  majority 
of  persons  who  individually  would  prefer  license 
and  lawlessness  to  law  and  the  administration  of 
justice.  That  is,  each  of  them  would  prefer  it 
for  himself.  Those  who  really  love  righteousness 
for  its  own  sake,  in  any  community,  are  but  an  in- 
significant minority.  Nevertheless,  their  idea  of 
life  prevails,  and  the  majority  submits  and  even 
pretends  that  its  own  mind  and  intent  goes  with 
that  of  the  minority.  It  submits  because  evil 
is  incapable  of  permanent  organization.  The 
schemes  of  venal  men  in  the  long  run  break  down. 
The  plans  of  unscrupulous  and  avaricious  cor- 
porations and  societies  always  in  the  end 
bring  defeat  to  themselves.  Of  course,  they  can 
do  unmeasured  evil  before  their  defeat  comes, 
but  God  has  much  time  before  Him,  and  is 
infinitely  patient.  "Though  the  mills  of  God 
grind  slowly,  yet  they  grind  exceeding  small." 

Now  Jesus'  definition  of  "faith"  is  simply  the 
willingness  of  an  individual  to  trust  his  personal 
fortunes  to  the  right  rather  than  to  the  wrong. 
He  declares  that  such  an  action  is  wise  and  pru- 
dent. It  looks  unwise  and  imprudent  in  tlie  face 
of  the  surface  facts  of  life.     But  Jesus  points  out 


SATAN'S  DIVIDED  KINGDOM,  121 

that  the  kingdom  of  evil  contains  within  it  the 
necessity  of  its  own  destruction.  All  persons 
and  things  who  are  in  any  way  entangled  with  it, 
He  declares,  must  either  work  themselves  free 
from  it  or  perish  with  it.  Its  rule  is  that  of  a 
monarch  who  is  impotent  to  protect  his  subjects. 
The  process  is  long  and  the  waiting  is  weary, 
but  in  the  ages  of  ages  only  good  can  be.  At 
long  last  Satan,  like  a  snake  ringed  by  fire,  will 
strike  himself  and  die. 


X 


XXIII.       * 

THREE  TYPES  OF  FAITH. 

"  1bow  bcnv  we  cver^  man  In  our  own  tongue,  wberein 
we  were  born  ?  "—Acts  ii.  8. 

There  are  dialects  of  thought  as  well  as  speecli 
— natural  differences  of  temperament  and  char- 
acter to  which  the  Gospel  adapts  itself.  In  a 
rough  way,  men  may  be  grouped  into  three  great 
classes  upon  which  the  spirit  of  Christ  may  fall, 
and  each  of  them,  when  touched  and  awakened, 
utters  the  "wonderful  works  of  God"  in  a  lan- 
guage peculiar  to  itself. 

The  first  is  one  which  is  so  common  in  our  day 
and  land  that  it  is  hard  to  characterize.  No  one 
word  so  well  fits  it  as  the  word  "upright."  This 
class  is  distinguished  by  a  mind  calm",  level,  and 
clear,  "  chiefly  intent  upon  a  well-colored  life." 
Such  a  man  is  chiefly  concerned  with  living 
rightly.  He  recognizes  with  an  intense  keenness 
the  sacred  authority  of  all  human  duties  and  affec- 
tions. He  is  honest — so  honest  that  dishonest}^ 
has  no  temptation  for  him.  He  reveres  honor, 
veracity,  and  good  faith  so  much  that  he  expects 
them  like  the  daylight,  and  he  hears  of  or  sees 

128 


THREE  TYPES  OF  FAITH.  123 

tlieir  violation  with  a  feeling  of  scorn.  His  word 
is  as  good  as  his  bond,  and  he  exx^ects  that  you 
will  not  go  back  from  yours.  Foreign  missions 
do  not  interest  him,  but  he  esteems  it  a  personal 
disgrace  if  his  own  parish  is  in  debt.  He  gives 
more  than  he  promises  ;  he  does  more  than  he 
says  ;  he  obeys  all  the  requirements  of  morality, 
for  he  would  despise  himself  if  he  did  not. 

Now,  when  religion  comes  to  speak  to  this  man,\/ 
what  shall  it  say  ?  If  it  comes  as  subtle  theologi-  " 
cal  distinctions  he  listens  bewildered  or  goes 
asleep.  If  it  comes  as  a  sweeping  emotion  it 
only  disturbs  him  and  makes  him  uncomfortable. 
Sometimes  he  stops  short  of  any  avowal  of 
conscious  religion  at  all.  This  is  not  often  the 
case,  however.  These  men  as  a  rule  take  kindly 
to  religion.  They  form  very  noticeably  the  rank 
and  file  of  the  Church.  They  are  her  mainstay 
and  her  safest  supj)ort.  But  the  Gospel  must 
and  does  speak  to  them  in  a  language  they  can 
understand.  The  one  word  for  them  is  law. 
They  carry  forward  their  character  as  men,  and 
make  it  the  basis  of  their  Christian  structure. 
Here  is  a  summing  uj)  of  their  Gospel.  Obedi- 
ence to  duty  is  the  rule  of  their  life  in  any  case. 
God  reveals  the  right,  gives  an  example  of  the 
right,  tells  the  reward  of  the  right  and  declares 
the  punishment  of  wrong,  and  offers  a  conditional 
pardon  for  failure.  This  is  the  religion  of  most 
men.  It  is  not  the  highest  nor  the  deepest,  but 
it  is  true.     It  has  no  delectable  mountains,  but 


k 


124  THREE  TYPES  OF  FAITH. 

it  has  no  valleys  of  despondency^     It  is  a  narrow 
road  ;  it  is  in  the  main  a  straight  one. 

But,  while  this  is  a  true  Gospel,  is  it  the  whole 
Gospel?  Not  unless  the  voice  of  our  Saviour  is 
to  reach  but  a  part  of  men,  and  draw  therefrom 
but  a  little  flock.  We  are  not  all  made  of  this 
even  and  unfermenting  clay.  There  abounds 
another  class,  as  different  from  these  in  all 
spiritual  texture  and  religious  character  as  the 
impulsive  Greek  at  Pentecost  was  from  the  digni- 
fied and  slow-pacing  Bedouin  chieftain.  Let  us 
look  at  these.  They  are  passionate  natures. 
They  cannot  work  out  their  own  salvation.  They 
pray  ever  to  be  taken  whither  of  themselves  they 
cannot  go.  They  are  not  of  necessity  weak  of 
will  or  incompetent  of  self-control  or  unequal  to 
the  requirements  of  the  moralities.  It  is  some- 
times they  have  got  through  all  these  and  yet  can 
And  no  peace.  Duty,  as  men  measure  it,  they 
say  they  have  done,  and  still  the  face  of  God 
does  not  lift  up  its  light.  They  are  haunted  for- 
ever by  a  sense  of  infinite  failure.  Their  aims  are 
away  above  their  abilities.  Obedience  to  law 
is  drudgery  to  them,  but  they  are  easily  led  by 
faith.  All  their  motives  center  about  persons. 
Is  there  no  Gospel  for  such  folk  ?  Is  there  no 
Gosx)el  for  those  whom  law  only  tantalizes? 
Aye,  is  there?  To  such  it  offers  Christ,  not  as 
the  teacher  of  a  law,  but  as  a  man  to  be  believed 
in  and  loved.  This  sim^^le  trust,  this  intense 
personal  affection,  which  you,  my  good  sir,  can- 


THREE  TYPES  OF  FAITH.  125 

not  understand — this  is  just  the  very  thing  they 
have  to  give.  They  cannot  direct  themselves 
aright,  but  only  fix  their  love  and  you  may  lead 
them  where  you  will.  Self-discipline  is  impos- 
sible ;  they  have  tried  tiiat,  but  they  cannot 
escape  from  themselves.  There  are  those  whose 
lives  are  so  little  self-contained,  who  so  need  to 
be  carried  out  of  themselves,  that  without  it 
their  nature  runs  to  waste  or  burns  away  with 
self-consuming  fires.  Here,  then,  we  have  a  class 
to  whom  the  Gospel  speaks  another  language. 
To  the  first  it  says  duty,  to  the  second  it  says 
love.  One  class  can't  do  the  duty,  the  other 
can't  comprehend  the  love. 

But  is  this  all?  Are  there  other  sheep  which  V' 
belong  to  neither  fold  ?  Thus  far  we  have  had  in 
view  only  the  future  of  religion  to  each  one — the 
good  it  brings  when  it  is  ripe.  Whether  we  say, 
"Obey  patiently,  and  you  sliall  grow  into  perfect 
faith  and  love,"  or  whether  we  say,  "Fling 
yourself  on  faith  and  love,  and  you  will  find  grace 
for  perfect  obedience,"  in  either  case  it  is  the 
good  effects  of  the  spiritual  influence  we  have  in 
view,  and  not  the  pleasure  of  its  possession. 
But  there  is  yet  another  class.  They  ask.  Shall 
no  interchange  of  voice  break  the  silence  between 
Grod  and  us  1  Why  tell  us  of  God's  almighty 
power  and  care  if  it  only  sleep  round  us  like 
dead  space,  or,  at  most,  watches  like  a  sentinel 
of  the  universe,  not  free  to  stir  ?  Who  can  ever 
pray  to  a  motionless  Immensity  ?     Who  can  weep 


126  THREE  TYPES   OF  FAITH. 

his  griefs  to  rest  on  a  bosom  so  undemonstrative  ? 
Urged  by  such  questions  men  have  longed  for 
conscious  communion  with  God — communion 
both  ways. 

Lash  your  weary  strength  no  more,  they  say. 
Your  strength  is  to  sit  still.  Sit  low  and  weak 
upon  the  ground,  with  loving  readiness  and  will- 
ingness, and  you  shall  be  taken  through  your 
work  with  a  sevenfold  strength  that  has  no  effort 
in  it.  So  speaks  this  doctrine  of  the  Spirit. 
Surely  it  is  not  altogether  a  false  Gospel.  It 
seems  likely  that  it  may  come  in  this  language 
to  some  meditative,  passionless  men. 

^  What  shall  we  say  then  of  these  three  types 
of  faith  ?  Do  you  doubt  their  reality  ?  Look  in 
tlie  next  pew  and  each  for  himself  may  see 
examples  of  them  all  ;  not  in  equal  proportion, 
however.  Tliere  are  scores  who  walk  by  duty,  a 
few  who  walk  by  love,  one  or  two  ripe  and  hoary- 
X  headed  who  "walk  by  the  Spirit."  You  have 
tliem  here  in  the  compass  of  the  Holy  Books — 
Matthew  for  law,  Paul  for  faith,  John  for  love. 
They  have  been  ever  since — Pelagian,  Augus- 
tinian,  and  mystic  Jesuit  and  Quietist ;  Cal- 
vinist  Lutheran  and  Quaker  ;   Ritualist,  Church- 

_man,  and  Evangelical. 

The  Gospel  of  Christ  falls  upon  every  soul,  and 
if  it  produces  fruit  at  all,  brings  forth  the  kind 
of  fruit  which  that  particular  soil  is  best  adapted 
to  bear. 


XXIV. 

REVELATION  AND  MEN'S  CAPACITY. 

**  IF  bavc  set  mang  tblngs  to  sag  unto  gou,  but  gc  can* 
not  bear  tbem  now."— John  xvi.  12. 

There  is  no  more  pregnant  passage  in  Scripture 
than  this.  It  contains  a  statement  of  fact,  a 
principle,  and  a  prophecy.  Scripture  always 
assumes  that  the  knowledge  of  divine  things  is 
of  the  very  supremest  value,  and  that  the  lack  of 
it  is  the  greatest  of  all  possible  evils.  It  regards 
the  knowledge  of  God  very  much  as  we  regard  an 
education.  We  conceive  the  loss  of  that,  or  the 
failure  to  attain  it,  to  be  among  the  direst  calami- 
ties that  can  befall  a  human  being.  To  be  able 
"to  see  the  Father"  is  the  thing  which  Jesus 
laid  the  profoundest  stress  upon.  "Oh!  Jeru- 
salem," He  exclaims,  "if  thou  hadst  known, 
§Ven  thou,  the  things  that  belonged  to  thy 
peace  !  "  He  conceives  human  well  being  as  de- 
pendent upon  the  possession  of  certain  kind  of 
knowledge.  But  it  is  a  knowledge  of  a  peculiar 
kind,  and  which  can  only  be  secured  in  a  peculiar 
way.  The  machinery  of  education  witli  which  we 
are  familiar  is  utterly  impotent  to  furnish  it. 

127 


128  REVELATION  AND  MEN'S  CAPACITY. 

The  faculties  tlirougli  which  one  receives  tlie 
^  ordinary  education  of  life  are  not  the  faculties 
by  which  one  becomes  wise  unto  salvation. 

It  is  not  easy  to  catch  the  spirit  of  this,  or,  in- 
deed, to  really  believe  that  it  is  true.  There  are 
two  difficulties  in  the  way.  The  first  is  the  fact 
that  the  words  of  the  Master  nre  hard  to  be 
understood.  They  are  not  rendered  any  easier 
of  comprehension  by  the  possession  of  great  in- 
tellectual endowments.  Suppose,  for  example, 
you  say  to  a  devout  cobbler  and  to  an  undevout 
philosopher  at  the  same  time:  "Love  your 
enemies,"  or  "The  word  was  made  flesh."  The 
chances  are  that  the  cobbler  would  understand 
these  expressions  better  than  the  philosopher. 
At  any  rate,  he  is  equally  likely  to  comprehend 
them,  and  that  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  ideas 
which  these  two  phrases  connote  are  excessively 
difficult  ideas. 

The  second  reason  is,  we  unconsciously  take  it 
for  granted  that  we  have  the  riglit  to  conij^lete 
information  with  regard  to  divine  things.  We 
resent  a  half  revelation.  We  have  a  feeling  tliat 
we  are  unfairly  or  unjustly  dealt  with  when  God 
reveals  His  will  to  us  in  formulae  which  we  can- 
not altogether  comprehend. 

The  text  is  the  explanation  of  this  difficulty: 
God's  revelation  is  conditioned  upon  man's 
capacity  to  receive  it.  "  There  are  many  things," 
the  Master  says,  "  which  I  have  told  you  ;  there 
are  many  which  I  have  yet  to  say  unto  you,  but 


REVELATION  AND  MENS   CAPACITY.  129 

these  latter  ye  cannot  yet  bear.  The  difficulty  is 
not  with  their  truth,  nor  with  my  ability  to 
state  them  in  terms,  but  it  is  in  the  limitation  of 
your  faculties."  This  principle  is  a  most  far- 
reaching  one.  When  you  open  the  Old  Testa- v, 
ment,  for  example,  retaining  in  your  minds  the  ^ 
thought  that  it  is  a  revelation  from  Almighty 
God,  you  are  apt  to  be  surprised  and  shocked 
when  you  find  it  apparently  giving  its  sanction  to 
ideas  and  customs  which  are  far  below  our  moral 
standards.  We  find  it  speaking,  apparently, 
with  approval  of  wholesale,  indiscriminate  judg- 
ments inflicted  upon  innocent  women  and  children 
for  the  faults  of  their  fathers  or  their  kin.  We 
find  it,  to  our  surprise,  speaking  with  approval 
of  slavery,  of  polygamy,  of,  in  fact,  a  whole 
range  of  thoughts  and  actions  which  we  unhesi- 
tatingly condemn.  How  shall  we  reconcile  the 
fact  that  all  these  are  contained  in  a  "  revelation  " 
of  God  ? 

Jesus  gives  the  explanation.  He  says  :  "  God  ,. 
allowed  these  on  account  of  the  hardness  of  your  ' 
father's  hearts."  He  might  have  said,  with  equal 
truth,  on  account  of  their  spiritual  stupidity. 
He  taught  them  as  much  and  as  fast  as  they 
were  able  to  bear.  He  could  not  in  the  nature  of 
the  case  go  faster  than  they  were  able  to  move. 
When  God  made  His  final  and  exhaustive  revela- 
tion of  Himself  in  the  person  of  His  Son,  He  was 
still  compelled  to  wait  for  the  fullness  of  the 
time.     Even  then  only  a  handful  were  able  to 


130  REVELATION   AND  MEN'S  CAPACITY. 

comprehend  the  light,  and  that,  incompletely, 
partially,  and  like   children.     This  is  the  guid- 
ing principle  of  the  revelation  of  God  in  all  its 
stages. 
—     What  I  am  chiefly  concerned  with  just  now, 
is  to  point  out  that  this  principle  obtains  in  the 
y  individual  religious  life.     The  knowledge  of  God 
A  depends  upon  the  capacity  to  receive  that  knowl- 
edge.    There  is  a  widespread  error,  which  would 
be  whimsical  if  it  were  not  so  fatal,  that  one  may 
turn  to  religion  at  any  moment  when  the  mood 
seizes  him,  and  be  able  at  that  moment  to  take  it 
all   in   and    comprehend   its   contents.      One   is 
reminded   of   the  man    who,  when   asked   if   he 
could   play  the  violin,   replied  that    "he  never 
had,  but  he  supposed  he  could."     It  is  as  foolish 
as  to  expect  to  be  taught  the  calculus  before  one 
has   experimentally  learned   arithmetic.      There 
is   a   reasonableness  and  a   method  in  religion 
which  is  inexorable.     It  has  laws  of  its  own,  and 
those  laws   are  rooted  in  the  nature  of  things. 
V,  This  is  one  of  them  :  there  are  such  things  as  first 
^  principles,  and  one  cannot  go  on  to  higher  things 
__ until  he  has  learned  the  rudiments. 

The  truth  of  revelation  is  never  final.  It  is 
outpoured  from  the  infinite  reservoir  of  the 
Almighty,  and  that  reservoir  is  inexhaustible. 
V  Pastor  John  Robinson,  at  Leyden,  was  more 
right  than  even  he  supposed  when  he  ventured 
to  point  to  the  Bible  and  say  :  "I  am  i)ersuaded 
that   God   had   yet  more  truth    to  come  to  us, 


REVELATION  AND  MEN'S  CAPACITY.  131 

which  will  break  forth  in  time  out  of  His  Holy 
Word."  This  truth  is  always  breaking  forth 
out  of  His  Holy  Word.  "Old  things  pass  away 
and  all  things  become  new."  Those  wlio  have/<' 
fondly  fancied  that  they  had  learned  it  all,  are 
disturbed  and  affrighted  when  they  are  visited 
by  some  newer  and  additional  word  from  on 
high. 

Hnman  life  is  thought  of  by  our  Lord  as  a 
school.  The  docile  and  obedient  scholar  has  a 
thirst  for  knowledge,  but  he  secures  his  knowl- 
edge step  by  step.  He  does  not  expect  that  he 
shall  know  everything  to-day.  He  waits  and 
hopes  that  to-morrow  will  have  its  lesson  also.' 
The  impatient  and  stupid  child,  when  the  lesson 
is  offered  to  him,  says  :  "I  don't  see  any  use  in 
this."  Like  a  foolish  child,  instead  of  studying 
the  lesson  as  set,  he  wants  to  lay  it  down  and 
take  in  hand  the  big  boys'  books.  The  task  is 
slow  ;  it  is  not  always  agreeable,  nor  can  one 
know  the  import  of  what  he  is  being  taught  at 
the  moment.  "  What  I  do  ye  know  not  now, 
but  ye  shall  know  hereafter." 

The  sum  of  it  all  is  that  the  knowledge  of  God 
is  the  supreme  wisdom,  but  because  it  is  a  divine 
wisdom,  it  shares  in  the  qualifies  of  God.  Men 
come  into  it  little  by  little.  As  they  increase  in 
goodness  they  come  more  and  more  to  under- 
stand the  infinite  goodness.  As  they  grow  in 
patience  they  come  to  see  the  divinity  of  Christ. 
As  little  by  little  they  come  to  understand  Him 


132  REVELATION  AND  MEN'S  CAPACITY. 

the  better,  tliey  begin  to  grow  more  and  more  like 
Him.  The  end  of  it  is  that  they  shall  attain  to 
the  measure  of  the  stature  of  men  in  Christ, 
because  finally  they  shall  be  able  to  see  Him  as 
He  is. 


XXY. 

THE  MIND  OF  CHRIST. 
**  Xet  tbis  min&  be  in  gou,  wbicb  was  also  in  Cbrlst 

5CSUS/'— Philippians  ii.  5. 

Christianity,  strictly  speaking,  is  not  a  "re-'^ 
ligion"  at  all.     It  refuses  to  take  its  stand  side 
by  side  with   the  other  religions  of  the  world. 
The  study  of  comparative  religion  concerns  it  but 
very  little,  and  can  make  very  little  of  it.      It 
stands  on  a  ground  of  its  own,  and  is  to  a  great 
extent  destitute  of  those  very  qualities  which  x     \ 
constitute  what  is  ordinarily  called  religion.     It  A'^ 
has  little  to  say  about  the  origin  of  man.     It  has 
no  theory  to  propound  concerning  the  nature  of 
God.     It  has  no  formal  statement  concerning  the 
manner  of  future  existence.     It  refers  to  all  these 
things,  to  be  sure,  but  it  takes  them  for  granted. 

It  does  not  reveal  them,  it  does  not  uphold  them  5 

it  simply  assumes  them. 

Christianity  is  Christ's  working  theory  of  life-V 
It  runs  thus:  "Life,"  He  seems  to  say,  "is 
under  the  management  of  a  father.  It  is  to  be 
passed  among  brothers  ;  act  accordingly.  Your 
brother  may  injure  you  grievously,  wantonly. 
If  you  return  evil  in  kind,  you  intensify  and  per- 
petuate the  wrong.     Do  not  retaliate.     Conquer 

-.33 


X 


134  THE  MIND  OF  CHRIST. 

him  with  patience  and  bind  him  to  yourself  in 
the  meshes  of  love.  You  may  suffer  thus  ;  very 
jDrobably  you  will.  You  may  perish;  but  never- 
theless not  a  hair  of  your  head,  shall  be  wasted." 

—  Thus  is  the  summary  of  the  situation.  He 
l)racticed  what  He  preached.  He  became  Him- 
self the  supreme  example  of  His  method.  He 
asserted  all  along  that  in  adopting  this  manner 
of  life  He  was  acting  not  alone  by  the  light  of 
His  supreme  human  wisdom,  but  that  He  was 
acting  also  as  the  immediate  manifestation  of 
God.  In  a  word,  that  He  was  living  visibly  be- 
fore the  eyes  of  men  as  God  actually  exists  in- 
visibly. He  renounced  the  rights  which  belonged 
to  Him  as  God.  He  became  a  man,  and  went 
through  the  whole  career  of  a  man.  He  refused 
any  exemptions  for  Himself.  He  refused  to  put 
to  one  side  the  cui>  of  agony,  refused  to  take  it 
from  His  lips  until  He  had  drunk  it  to  the  dregs. 
He  would  not  accept  any  favors.  In  looking 
carefully  at  His  career,  His  teaching,  His  life. 
His  spirit,  one  can  see  that  the  central  element 

_of  Christianity  is  renunciation  of  rights. 

Now,  to  the  practical  man  this  seems  to  be  the 
very  extremity  of  wrongheadedness.  It  moves 
directly  in  the  face  of  the  wisdom  and  experience 
of  the  ages.  His  way  looks  and  moves  precisely 
in  the  opposite  direction  from  men's  way.  Will 
it  bear  the  test  of  actual  experiment  ?  Suppose 
an  individual  seriously  undertakes  to  conduct  his 

__  life  according  to  the  spirit  and  letter  of  the  life 


X 


THE  MIND  OF  CHRIST.  136 

of  Christ.     He  will  love  his  enemies.     He  will"" 
not  retaliate  any  injury.     He  will  take  no  thought 
for  the  morrow,  what  he  shall  eat,  or  what  he 
shall  drink,  or  wherewithal  he  shall  be  clothed. 
Can  such  a  man  live  'i    Can  he  support  his  family  ? 
Can  he  be  a  good  citizen?     Or  will  he,  in  the 
attempt  to  become  a  god,  fall  below  the  standard^ 
of  the  average  man  ?    Can  a  corporation  conduct 
business  in  this  fashion?     Suppose  it  refuse  to 
enter  into  rivalries,  since  it  seeks  not  the  things 
of  its  own,  but  the  things  of  another.     Can  it  pay 
dividends?    Can  it  maintain  its  existence  in  the_ 
community  ? 

Or,  suppose  a  nation  were  to  adopt  this  mode 
of  life.     Not  intending  to  resent  encroachments,  y' 
it  disbands  its  army,  sells  its  navy,  discharges   '^ 
its  police.     Can  it  live  for  a  single  year  ? 

Now,  it  must  be  confessed  that  when  one  faces~~ 
down  the  manner  of  life  which  Jesus  taught  and 
illustrated,  it  appears  to  be  not  only  impracticable, 
but  dangerous.  Dangerous  not  alone  in  a  physi- 
cal, but  in  a  moral  sense.  For,  consider  how 
many  of  our  own  highest  ideals  cluster  about 
the  idea  of  right :  the  Bill  of  Rights,  the  Magna 
Cliarta,  the  Petition  of  Rights,  the  War  for  In-X 
dependence.  A  whole  circle  of  human  ideas  of 
the  most  exalted  kind  revolve  about  the  central 
thought  of  self-assertion.  These  ideas  have  had 
much  to  do  with  the  elevation  of  humanity  and 
in  maintaining  society  at  the  point  which  it  has 
already  gained.     It  would  seem  to  be  necessary^ 


X 


136  THE  MIND   OF  CHRIST. 

that  these  ideas  should  be  preserved.  But  how 
shall  they  be  reconciled  with  the  teachings  of 
Christ  ? 

I  reply  it  is  true  that  life  presents  itself  to  us 
under  the  conditions  thus  briefly  sketched,  yet 
there  are  some  strange  facts  that  stand  on  the 
other  side  and  point  in  the  opposite  direction. 
First,  I  ask  you  to  notice  the  overwhelming  suc- 
cessfulness  of  the  career  of  Jesus  Christ.  Has 
there  ever  been  so  successful  a  man  in  the 
world  ?  No  other  one  has  attracted  to  himself  a 
tithe  of  the  same  attention,  has  gathered  to  him- 
self anything  like  the  great  multitude  of  dis- 
ciples, and  to  no  other  man  have  the  affections 
of  myriads  of  human  beings  fastened  themselves 
with  the  same  tenacity  as  they  have  to  Christ. 
Indeed,  it  may  be  said  tliat  He  and  His  pale 
shadow,  the  Buddha,  divide  between  them  the 
homage  of  the  world.  Guatama,  in  virtue  of  his 
renunciation  under  the  Bo  tree,  lies  at  the  heart 
of  one-half  the  world.  Jesus,  in  virtue  of  His 
renunciation  of  the  pleasures  that  He  had  at  the 
right  hand  of  the  Father,  holds  the  affections  of 
the  other  half.  There  must  be  something  in  the 
human  heart  which  responds  to  this  idea  of 
renunciation.  One-half  the  world  is  drawn  to 
the  Buddha  by  the  mere  simulation  of  it,  and 

A  the  other  half  is  raised  into  the  presence  of  God 
when  they  get  sight  of  the  reality  itself. 
The   second   thing   to  be  noticed   is,  that  the 

A  things   most   desired   by   men   are   actually  not 


X 


THE  MIND   OF  CHRIST.  137 

attainable  when  sought  as  rights.     Suppose  inN^ 
the  actual  conditions  of  life  a  man  shall  say  :   "  I    ' 
will  not  be  guided  by  sentiment,  I  will  do  exact 
justice,  and  will  insist  upon  my  precise  rights," 
What  will  the  weapons  of  force  or  law  secure  for 
such  a  man  ?     They  will  indeed  provide  for  him 
food,   and  lodging,  and  dress,  and  amusements. 
In  a  word,  they  will  furnish  all  these  necessaries 
of  life  which  can  be  compelled,  or  which  can  be, 
bought,   but   they  will    be   utterly  impotent   to  \ 
provide  him  with  the  devotion  of  a  woman,  the 
friendship  of  a  man,  or  the  love  of  a  child.     Not 
a  single  one  of  these  can  be  secured  as  a  matter 
of  right.      They   can   only  be   attained   by  the 
renunciation  of  one's  own  self.     People  do  not 
always  realize  this.     Who  has   not  seen  the  sad 
spectacle  of  a  man  claiming  affection  as  a  right, -^  ■, 
and  failing  to  secure  it  ? 

In  the  third  place  is  the  strange  fact  that'*,-' 
institutions  sustained  by  force  are  short  lived.  "^ 
They  chase  each  other  as  breakers  chase  one 
another  up  the  shelving  shores  of  the  sen,  each 
one  rolliug  in  with  apparently  resistless  power, 
and  each  breaking  and  receding  again  with 
ignominy.  Take  for  example  the  armed  nations 
of  Europe.  They  are  the  very  realization  of 
force.  But  we  feel  instinctively  that  their  insti- 
tutions cannot  permanently  endure.  No  situa- 
tion which  is  based  upon  force  can  abide. 
They  must  fight  until  sooner  or  later  one  stands 
supreme.     It  is  only  when  force  is   eliminated^ 


138  THE  MIND   OP  CHRIST. 

\.and   what  tlie   world  calls  sentiment  takes  its 

A  place  that  an  equilibriam  of  life  is  possible. 

~     Is  Tolstoi  right,  then  ?    Have  the  Quakers  the 

truth    when    they   talk   of    non-resistance?      I 

answer    they    are    half    right,   but    only    half. 

Safety  and  content  in   living  is  found,  not  by 

passively  standing  still,  but  by  an  active  good 

will  which  goes  out  of  itself  toward  men.     Is  it 

anything  better,  then,  than  a  religious  phantasy  ? 

Do  you  mean  to  say  that  life  can  be  conducted 

V  after  that   fashion  %      I  reply,   thousands    have 

so  conducted  their  lives.     Sometimes  they  have 

come  to  grief,  but  in  that  case  they  have  not 

repined.     They  have  gone  down  serenely,   and 

their  pain  and  their  death  has  made  it  easier  for 

those  who  followed  them.     All  the  gain  of  life 

so  far  achieved  has  come  to  humanity  through 

the   "foolishness  of  the  cross."     The  idea  is  as 

yet  dim  before  men,  to  be  sure,  but  it  is  the  ideal 

_  toward  which  the  world  is  slowly  moving. 

No  man  in  Cliristendom  is  able  altogether  to 
resist  its  influence.  It  works  upon  him  in  spite 
of  himself.  Says  Mr.  John  Fiske :  "To  many 
minds  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  has  been  as 
foolishness  and  a  stumbling  block,  and  its  ethics 
V  V  have  been  derided  as  too  good  for  this  world. 
But,  through  misery  which  has  seemed  unendur- 
able, and  turmoil  which  has  seemed  endless,  men 
have  thought  on  its  sublime  ideal  and  have 
taken  comfort  in  that  sweetly  solemn  message  of 
'Peace  on  earth,  to  men  good  will.'  " 


XXVI. 

THY  WILL  BE  DONE. 

*'  Zb^  will  be  Done  (n  eartb  as  tt  Is  in  beaven."— Mat- 
thew vi.  10. 

This  petition  in  the  Lord's  Prayer  seems"" 
clearly  to  intimate  that  God's  will  is  done  in 
heaven,  and  that  it  is  not  done,  or  at  any  rate 
is  done  but  imperfectly,  upon  earth.  That  it  is 
done  in  the  heavens  is  the  impression  that  all 
have.  If  one  stands  under  the  stars  of  a  clear 
niglit  and  allows  the  silence  and  majesty  of  the 
scene  to  sink  into  his  soul,  he  is  impressed  with 
the  smoothness  and  majesty  of  movement  which 
characterizes  it  all.  One  feels  that  in  all  space  "y- 
and  time  outside  of  the  little  round  ball  upon'^ 
which  he  stands,  the  will  of  God  is  perfectly 
fulfilled.  When  he  goes  into  the  house,  how- 
ever, or  when  the  garish  sun  rises  next  morning 
and  he  goes  into  the  street  and  fronts  the  facts  of 
everyday  life,  he  is  impressed  by  the  thought 
that  God's  will  is  not  done.  He  begins  to  see  tliar. 
God  himself  is  of  the  same  opinion.  There  is  at 
any  rate  one  province  in  the  universe  which  is  in 
a  state  of  insurrection.  Within  that  province  of 
humanity  there  is  a  little  spot,  even  the  man's__ 

139 


140  THY  WILL  BE   DONE. 

own  heart,  in  which  he  is  dismally  conscious 
that  the  will  of  God  does  not  prevail. 

The  burden  of  the  teaching  of  Jesus  is  concern- 
ing His  kingdom.  He  looked  for  a  restoration. 
He  bade  His  disciples  pray  for  the  execution  of 
God's  will  in  the  affairs  of  man.  He  knew  that 
what  men  pray  for  they  work  for.  He  bade 
them  co-operate  with  Him  in  bringing  sjuritual 
harmony  into  a  condition  of  living  which  is  full 
of  moral  confusion.  But  He  also  declares  that 
this  execution  of  God's  will  cannot  be  brought 
about  by  force.  There  are  some  things  that 
even  God  cannot  do.  He  points  out  that  the 
restoration  of  this  harmony  is  contingent  upon 
human  action  and  human  will.  God  cannot 
play  the  despot  in  the  spiritual  realm  in  a 
universe  where  human  affections  are,  in  the 
nature  of  the  case.  God  can  only  solicit  and 
entreat ;  He  cannot  compel.  It  is  as  inconceiv- 
able to  have  an  affection  coerced  as  it  is  to  have 
two  and  two  make  five.  This  is  the  very  ground 
and  explanation  of  the  incarnation  itself.  God 
cannot  force  man's  affections ;  therefore  He 
incarnates  Himself  and  becomes  a  man  in  order 
that  He  may  win  their  love.  The  work  of  Jesus, 
then,  is  to  bring  man  to  a  better  mind. 

Now,  we  mny  as  well  confess  that  our  interest 
in  His  programme  is  languid.  We  use  this  peti- 
tion, of  course,  when  we  say  the  Lord's  Prayer, 
but  we  do  not  lay  the  emphasis  upon  it  which 
we  do  upon  its  companion  petition,   "Give  us 


THY  WILL   BE  DONE.  141 

this  day  our  daily  bread."  We  are  deterred  by 
a  feeling  of  antecedent  hopelessness.  The  world 
is  so  bad.  Injustice  and  confusion,  greed,  sel- 
fishness, and  indifference  are  so  widespread  and 
rampant,  that  it  seems  but  an  idle  dream  to  think 
of  this  world  ever  moving  with  the  same  moral 
smoothness  and  divine  harmony  which  should 
obtain  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  We  despair 
even  of  securing  the  will  of  God  within  an  area 
the  size  of  one's  own  city.  If  one  looks  forward 
no  further  than  a  year,  he  is  apt  to  think  that 
there  is  more  likelihood  of  the  will  of  a  street 
railway  company  being  carried  into  effect  than 
of  the  will  of  God. 

Out  of  this  has  always  sprung  the  temptation— 
to  accept  evil  as  incurable,  and  to  adjust  one's 
self  toward  the  fact  of  its  existence  as  best  he 
may.     Strangely  enough  this  petition,  which  is 
the  prayer  put  in  the  mouth  of  soldiers  about  to 
enter  an  engagement,  has  come  to  be  thought  of  V 
as  the  petition  peculiarly  suited  to  the  mourner 
sitting  hopeless  over  a  newly  filled  grave  !     "Thy 
will  be  done"    has  come  to  be  the  formula  of 
resignation,  instead  of  a  battle  cry.     Is  it  worth 
while  really  to  hope  that  God's  will  will  ever  be_ 
done  in  this  world  ? 

The  early  apostles  themselves  doubted  it. 
They  looked  for  an  immediate  coming  of  their 
Lord  and  for  the  quick  destruction  of  the  earth. 
Their  imaginations  were  not  strong  enough  to 
fancy  the  great  empire  of  evil,  which  confronted 


142  THY  WILL  BE  DONE. 

them,  subdued  to  God  and  moving  in  obedience 
to  His  will.  In  the  Middle  Ages  Christian  men 
and  women  despaired  of  God's  will  ever  being 
done  where  men  congregated,  and  so  they  fled 
into  the  desert,  the  wilderness,  shut  themselves 
up  in  walls,  buried  themselves  in  caves,  climbed 
to  the  top  of  pillars,  each  one  trying  within  the 
little  area  of  his  own  life  to  subordinate  him- 
self to  the  will  of  God,  because  he  despaired 
of  the  world  ever  coming  to  the  same  mind. 
In  modern  times  popular  Christianity  has 
thought  of  Christ's  redemption  not  so  much 
as  a  process  which  will  conquer  the  earth,  as  a 
device  whereby  an  individual  here  and  there 
may  be  snatched  out  of  a  perishing  world  and 
landed  safely  in  heaven.  It  conceives  of 
humanity  as  the  company  of  a  shipwrecked 
vessel  struggling  in  the  midst  of  confusing  seas, 
and  of  the  Redeemer  saving  a  few,  while  the 
majority  are  left  to  perish. 
"-^  Over  against  this,  however,  is  the  magnificent 
hopefulness  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  At  tlie 
very  dawn  they  looked  forward  through  the  day 
even  to  the  evening,  and  declared  that  "  the  seed 
of  the  woman  shall  bruise  the  serpent's  head." 
/^  "If  I  be  lifted  up,"  says  the  Master,  "I  will 
draw  all  men  to  me."  When  the  seer  at  Patmos 
saw  the  radiant  woman  coming  down  from 
heaven,  and  the  man  child  born  upon  the  earth, 
and  the  great  dragon  pouring  out  a  flood  to  over- 
..^whelm  him,  John  declares  that  the  earth  itself 


THY   WILL  BE   DONE.  143 

opened  its  great  ]i[)s  and  swallowed  up  the  flood.'^" 
I  think  that  we  of  to-day  are  coming,  in  our  own 
time,  to  see  this  more  clearly.     The  idea  which 
has  found  the  deepest  lodgment    in  the    con- 
temporary mind    is  the  idea  of    development. 
One  cannot  pronounce  that  word  without  having 
awakened   in   his   mind   the  idea   of  increasing    ^  \, 
goodness.     The   Archbishop   of   Canterbury  has       '\ 
been  bold  enough,  within  a  few  years,  to  declare 
that  even  within  the  darkness  of  pagan  religion 
God  has  been  working  and  is  still  working,  and 
that   even   the   religions   themselves   have   been 
subsidized   by  Him   to  aid  in  bringing  in   His_ 
kingdom. 

The  effect  of  this  idea  upon  actual  life  is 
incalculable.  It  inspires  the  indiv-idual  with 
hope.  It  draws  him  out  of  his  isolation.  It 
makes  him  willing  to  co-operate  with  his  fellow- 
men  in  bringing  about  betterment  in  every  con- 
dition of  life.  It  emboUlens  him  to  stand  in  the 
presence  of  a  battery  of  evils,  however  ancient 
they  may  be,  liowever  intrenched  they  may  be,  . 
and  to  attack  them  courageously,  because  he  is 
persuaded  that  they  are  contrary  to  the  will  of 
God,  and  because  he  is  persuaded  that  the  will 
of  God  will  ultimately  prevail.  If  the  idea 
should  obtain  more  largely  than  it  even  now 
does — that  is  to  say,  if  Christian  men  and 
women  once  get  lodged  within  them  the  thought 
that  they  are  co-operating  with  God  to  bring  in  a 
kingdom  of  righteousness — their  efforts  toward 


144  THY   WILL  BE  DONE. 

good  would  be  no  longer  mere  guerrilla  warfare 
or  selfish  attempts  to  save  one's  self,  but  would 
come  to  be  co-ordinated  into  a  great  and  power- 
ful movement,  Avliicli  would  mightily  forward 
and  speedily  bring  in  the  rule  of  God. 


XXVII. 

A  LIAISON  WITH  THE  WORLD. 

**^bc  fdenDsblp  ot  tbe  woclD  isenmttg  wttb  (5o&."— 

James  iv.  4. 

If  this  be  true  it  is  most  unfortunate.  For 
one  has  to  live  in  this  world,  whether  he  is  on 
friendly  terms  with  God  or  not.  As  to  the 
world,  he  must  eat  with  it,  sleep  with  it,  buy 
with  it,  sell  with  it,  and  spend  his  life  in  it.  If  it 
be  necessary  that  he  must  choose  between  it  and 
the  Almighty,  making  one  of  them  his  friend  and 
the  other  his  enemy,  it  would  seem  that  the  con- 
ditions of  life  are  hopeless  from  the  outset.  This 
makes  it  worth  while  to  inquire,  "  What  should- 
be  the  attitude  of  a  loyal  and  intelligent  Chris-'^ 
tian  toward  the  world  ? ' ' 

Now,  how  to  deal  with  this  is  a  question  which 
arose  at  the  very  beginning  of  the  Christian 
Church.  It  was  probably  more  sharply  accen- 
tuated then  than  it  has  ever  been  since.  The 
first  Christians  were  Jews  or  pagans  before 
they  became  Christians.  When  they  accepted 
Christ's  ideas  about  God,  it  threw  them  at  once 
out  of  friendly  relation  with  their  environment. 

145 


146  A  LIAISON   WITH   THE   WORLD. 

■"  The  Christian  of  to-day,  of  course,  is  free  from 
many  of  the  entanglements  which  his  ancestors 
faced.  He  lives  in  a  world  which  lias  actually 
become  to  a  large  extent  Christian.  Neverthe- 
less, it  still  contains  within  it  great  areas  wherein 
God  is  not  allowed,  or,  if  so,  is  regarded  as 
a  hostile  interloper.  To  be  more  specific,  the 
Christian  has  to  do  every  day  of  his  life  with  pro- 
fane men,  with  unclean  men,  with  dishonest 
men.  If  he  be  in  business  there  are  methods  of 
procedure  which  are  distinctly  contrary  to  the 
spirit  of  life  which  his  Master  enjoins.  If  he  be 
in  politics  it  is  needless  to  say  that  he  is  called 
upon  to  act  in  ways  of  which  his  Christian  con- 
\^  science  does  not  approve.  If  he  amuses  liim- 
'  •  self,  he  is  in  the  midst  of  diversions  which  are, 
in  many  cases  at  least,  questionable.  The  same 
thing  is  true  when  he  moves  in  society.  It  is 
true  even  if  he  withdraw  into  the  abstract  and 
comparatively  clear  atmosphere  of  the  arts  or 
the  pure  sciences.  If  these  things  were  un- 
equivocally bad,  the  question  would  be  very 
simple.  But  this,  fortunately  or  unfortun- 
ately,— fortunately  for  actual  life  and  unfor- 
tunately for  logic,— is  not  the  case.  The  profane 
man,  for  example,  is  often  most  generous  and 
hospitable.  The  unclean  man  may  be,  and  often 
is,  scrupulously  honest.  However  he  may  spend 
his  nights,  one  does  not  hesitate  to  trust  him  by 
day.  The  dishonest  man  may  be  on  his  intel- 
lectual side,  like  Lord  Bacon,  one  of  the  most 


A  LIAISON  WITH  THE   WORLD.  147 

effective  and  uplifting  of  men.  In  business, 
while  there  are  many  things  Avith  which  a  Chris- 
tion  cannot  be  on  friendly  terms,  there  is,  never- 
theless, much  of  the  highest  trust  and  purest  V 
honor.  So  of  society,  science,  politics,  and  all 
the  rest.  Now,  is  there  any  clew  in  so  crooked 
a  path  ?  How  shall  one  bear  himself  toward  a 
world  like  this  ? 

There  have  been  two  answers  given  which 
theoretically  are  good  enough,  but  practically 
are  not  workable.  The  first  is  what  has  beenx, 
called  the  method  of  "spiritual  direction."  If^ 
says  in  effect  to  the  individual  Christian  :  "The 
conduct  of  your  religious  life,  in  a  world  like 
this,  is  a  very  perplexing  and  complicated  affair. 
You  are  not  competent  to  manage  it  by  yourself. 
You  should  put  it  into  the  hands  of  an  ex- 
pert. You  should  go  periodically  to  a  confessor 
or  a  sjDiritual  director,  and  he  will  instruct  you 
specifically  from  time  to  time  as  to  the  things 
which  you  should  do  and  the  things  which  you 
should  avoid.  Trust  the  management  of  your 
life  to  him,  and  the  institution  which  he  repre- 
sents will  guarantee  your  eternal  well-being." 
The  trouble  with  this  is  that  where  it  is  honestly 
accepted,  it  reduces  the  individual  to  an  autom- 
aton and  keeps  him  forever  a  child.  It  works 
badly  in  practice. 

The  second  rule  is  the  one  which  long  ago  was 
adopted  by  the  Puritans.     It  finds  its  expression  j!i^ 
in  the  phrase:   "Come  out  therefrom  and  be  ye 


148  A  LIAISON   WITH  THE   WORLD. 

separate."  It  looks  upon  the  world  practically 
as  the  house  and  home  of  the  devil.  One  should 
flee  from  it  into  tlie  Church  if  he  can  ;  if  he  can- 
not do  that,  then  into  the  wilderness,  but  flee 
from  it  he  must.  This  method  is  distinctly  con- 
trary to  the  direction  which  our  Lord  left  to  his 
disciples  when  about  to  leave  them.  "I  pray 
not,"  he  said,  "  that  you  should  be  taken  out  of 
the  world,  but  that  you  should  be  kept  from  the 
evil." 

Neither   of    the    above    methods    will   work. 
But   will  anything  else  ?     I  venture  to  suggest 
\y  two  genei'al  principles,  which,  if  they  are  incor- 
l)()rated  into  the  conscience  and  the  understand- 
ing,   will    serve    for    at    least    general    sailing, 
directions. 
y     The  first  is,  we  dare  not  approve  the  things  that 
God  condemns.     The  practical  danger  in  life  is 
ill  assuming  that  there  is  an  ideal  code  of  right- 
eousness which  God  requires,  but  which  is  practi- 
cally im})ossible.     We  therefore  substitute  for  it 
a  lower  ideal,  which  we  confess  is  not  so  good,  but 
which  can  be  put  in  practice.     Our  Lord,  for  ex- 
ample, defines  the  sin  of  adultery,  "  Whosoever 
looketh  upon  a  woman  to  lust  after  her,  hath 
committed   adultery  already  with   her."      That 
standard  is  too  high  for  the  average  man.     He 
fixes  upon  a  lower,  but  what   he  regards  as  a 
.    i)racticable,  one.     The  Master  fixes  a  standard  of 
Xhonesty:   "Thou  shalt  not  covet."     We  substi- 
tute  for  it  a  lower  one.    He  fixes  the  ideal  of  truth- 


A  LIAISON  WITH  THE  WORLD.  149 

fulness  and  purity  and  generosity.     We  look  at" 
them  and  admire  tliem,  but  dismiss  them  as  im- 
l^ossible,  and  jDUt  in  their  place  lower,  but  more 
workable,  ones.      This  is  the  fundamental  error. 
Men   really  live   by   their  ideals.      The   instant, 
they  begin  to  conform   their  ideal   holiness   toA 
their   practical    attainment,  they  start  uj^on  a 
downward  course,  and  there  is  no  place  to  stop 
until   they   reach   the  bottom.     One   must   hold 

steadfastly   before  him    the  ideals   which  God 

sets. 

The  second  principle  is  one  equally  important, 
but  one  which  is  likely  to  be  forgotten  ;  we  dare  V' 
not  condemn  the  things  which  God  does  not  con- 
demn. The  religious  world  has  more  than  once 
fallen  into  the  error  of  pronouncing  unpardonable, 
things  which  God  regards  as  indifferent,  or  at 
least  not  intrinsically  wrong.  We  can  all  recall 
instances  where  the  Church  has  set  its  ban  upon 
beliefs,  practices,  and  amusements,  sweeping 
them  all  together  into  one  comprehensive  con- 
demnation, whereas  they  are  things  which  God 
does  not  so  dismiss  from  His  presence. 

With  these  two  principles  in  mind,  let  us  ex- 
amine a  single  word  of  our  text  upon  which  the 
whole  discussion  turns.  It  is  the  word  "  friend- 
ship." We  may  congratulate  ourselves  that  there  .  \. 
is  no  term  in  the  English  language  by  which  we  "^  A 
can  literally  translate  the  term  used  in  the  origi- 
nal. "Friendship"  with  the  world,  we  call  it. 
The  French  would  call  it  ime  liaison.     \t  is  the 


160  A  LIAISON   WITH  THE   WORLD. 

illicit  friendsliip  of  the  married  wife  for  a  man 
who  is  not  her  husband.  The  Church  is  the 
bride,  tlie  Lamb's  wife.  Her  husband  is  not 
exacting-  or  jealous  of  any  innocent  affection,  but 
he  condemns  unsparingly  and  without  relief  her 
illicit  affection  for  the  world. 


XXVIII. 
RESTORE  SUCH  AN  ONE. 

"  JSretbren,  if  a  man  be  overtaken  In  a  fault,  ge  wbfcb 
are  spiritual,  restore  sucb  an  one  in  tbe  spirit  of  meeks 
ness;  consiDering  tbgself,  lest  tbou  also  be  tempteD. 
JBear  ge  one  anotber's  burdens,  an£)  so  fulfill  tbe  law  of 

Cbrist."— Galatians  vi.  1-2. 

There  are  three  principles  evidently  deducible 
from  tliis  text :  that  sin  is  not  always  premedi- 
tated—we may  be  overtaken  and  overthrown  by 
a  sin  as  by  a  robber  ;  that  a  sinner  is  always  cap- 
able of  restoration  to  purity  ;  and  that  it  rests 
with  his  brethren  to  help  him  to  effect  this  res- 
toration. It  would  be  a  blessed  tiling  for  our 
Christian  society  if  we  could  look  upon  sin  and' 
sinners  as  Christ  did.  We  are  prone  to  go  to 
one  of  two  extremes.  We  either  look  upon  the 
sinner  as  hopeless,  or  look  upon  the  sin  as  trivial. 
The  divine  character  of  the  New  Testament  is  in 
no  way  more  evident  than  in  the  stable  ground 
from  which  it  views  this  matter. 

It  says,  never  retracting  nor  modifying,  "the 
wages  of  sin  is  death."  It  speaks  the  truth 
sternly  and  with  no  weak  sentiment.  But  then 
it  looks  for  every  excuse,   admits  every  pallia- 

151 


152  RESTORE   SUCH  AN  ONE. 

tion.     It  accepts  the  existence  of  sin  as  a  fact, 
without  affecting  to  be    shocked  or  startled — 
looks  upon  it  as  a  disease  which  should  be,  and 
which  can  be,  cured. 
The  Apostle  speaks  of  some  sins  as  the  result  of 

/  a  surprise — "if  a  man  be  overtaken  by  a  faull." 
All  sins  are  not  of  this  character,  nor  does  he 
say  so  ;  but  some  are.  It  seems  as  if  it  were  not 
in  us  to  commit  them.  We  loathe  the  thought 
of  them,  and  generally  they  are  no  temptation 
to  us.  They  are,  so  to  speak,  unnatural  to  ns. 
You  were  going  along  quietly  on  your  way, 
thinking  no  evil,  when  suddenly  a  temptation 
for  which  you  were  not  prepared  presented  itself, 
and  before  you  knew  where  you  were,  you  were 
crying  over  your  fault.  It  is  unpleasant  to  think 
this — that  we  walk  so  insecurely  ;  yet  anyone 
who  knows  humanity  knows  that  it  is  true,  that  it 
may  befall  even  a  brave  man  and  a  true.  Every- 
one, if  he  thinks  a  moment,  will  recognize  the 
truth  of  this  in  his  own  life. 
Again,    the  Apostle   looks   upon  sin    not    as 

y\  something  which  has  come  and  gone  again, 
and  left  no  mark.  He  sees  in  it  a  thing  that 
leaves  a  burden  on  the  soul.  One  burden  is  that 
chain  of  entanglement  which  seems  to  drag  us 
down  to  fresh  sins.  The  punishment  of  sin  is 
sin  !  The  penalty  of  a  crime  is  that  it  leads  to 
the  commission  of  another.  The  soul  gravitates 
downward  under  its  burden.  It  was  a  profound 
knowledge  which  foretold  Peter's  sin.     He  did 


RESTORE  SUCH  AN  ONE.  153 

not  say,  "  Thou  slialt  deny  me,"  that  would 
have  been  simple  enough  ;  but  He  says,  "Thou 
slialt  deny  me  thrice," — thrice  ;  he  could  not 
stop  at  once.  The  distress  of  the  soul  does  not 
depend  upon  the  magnitude  of  the  fault.  It  de- '^ 
pends  on  the  soul  itself.  What  would  be  a  most 
conspicuous  blot  on  the  fair  white  page  would 
be  undistinguishable  on  the  smeared  blotter. 
Every  soul  bears  its  own  sin,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  a  lie  is  more  intolerable  to  one  than  the 
remembrance  of  murder  to  another.  But  the 
memory  of  sin  is  what  hurts.  Many  a  spirit 
which  might  have  climbed  the  heights  of  holiness, 
and  breathed  the  rare  and  difficult  air  of  the 
mountain-top,  where  none  but  the  j^urest  spirit- 
uality can  dwell,  is  weighted  down  by  such  a  bur- 
den to  the  level  of  the  lowest.  Every  aspiration 
of  such  a  one,  every  longing  after  holiness,  is  met 
and  stifled  by  the  remembrance.  We  meet  such 
often,  men  and  women  whose  whole  lives  are 
spent  in  doing  deeds  of  charity  and  love  in  secret 
and  in  darkness,  lest  their  outward  acts  of  good- 
ness should  seem  inconsistent  with  their  inward 
memory  of  sin. 

Our  Lord  went  through  the  world  detecting 
the  presence  of  evil  by  the  innate  purity  of  His 
nature.  Men,  supposed  spotless,  fell  down  before 
Him,  crying,  "  Depart  from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful 
man,  0  Lord."  This,  in  a  lower  degree,  is  true 
of  all  innocence.  Men  grown  gray  in  guilt  re- 
strain their  hands  and  tongues  before  a  man  they 


154  RESTORE   SUCH  AN  ONE. 

know  to  be  honest  and  pure.  Fallen  women  have 
been  rescued  from  their  infamy,  over  and  over 
again,  by  the  love  for  an  innocent  child.  But 
guilt  also  detects  guilt  by  the  instinctive  con- 
sciousness of  similarity.  The  soul  knows  its  own 
nakedness,  but  it  knows  also  the  nakedness  of 
other  souls  who  have  sinned  in  like  manner.  There 
is  a  freemasonry  of  sin.  But  the  Apostle  speaks 
of  a  restoration  which  is  to  be  by  us  effected  for 
one  another.  Restoration  is  possible.  This  is  a 
Christian  fact.  Moralists  have  taught  us  what  sin 
is,  how  it  entwines  itself  into  habit.  They  have 
shown  us  its  ineffaceable  character,  but  it  was 
reserved  for  Christianity  to  speak  of  restoration. 
Christ,  and  Christ  only,  has  made  it  believed  that 
he  who  has  erred  may  be  made  pure  and  clean  and 
whole  again.  This  renovation  is  to  be  effected 
by  men.     "Brethren,  restore  such  an  one." 

Now,  how  can  this  be  done  ?    Our  text  confines 
^  us  to  two  modes  :  By  sympathy;  and  by  forgive- 
ness.    By  sympathy — not  any  maudlin,   sickly 
sentiment,  but  a  sympatliy  which   can   take  a 
poor,  fallen,  repulsive  sinner  by   the  hand   and 
help  him.     We  Protestants  have  an  unwarranted 
sneer  ready  for  the  confessional.     Men  confess, 
we  say,  for   the   sake   of  absolution,  that,  being 
absolved,  they  may  sin  again.     But  such  is  not 
the  truth.     The   system   of   the   confessional   is 
built  on  something  infinitely  more  profound  than 
X  that.     It  is  not  the  desire  to  sin  ngain  that  makes 
—  men  long  to  unburden  their  consciences  ;  it  is  the 


RESTORE   SUCH  AN  ONE.  165 

yearning  to  be  true  which  lies  at  the  bottom,-^ 
even  of  the  most  depraved  hearts,  to  appear  what 
they  are  and  to  lead  a  false  life  no  longer.     Be- 
sides this,  it  is  the  desire  of  sympathy  ;  it  wants 
some  other  human  heart   to  feel  what  it  feels. 
Thousands  upon  thousands  of  laden  souls  around  X 
us  are  crying,    "Come  and  bear  my  burden  with 
me."     But  why  should  the  priest's  lieart  alone 
be  the  common  receptacle  of  all  the  crimes  and 
wickedness  of  a  congregation?     "Bear  ye  one_ 
another's  burdens." 

Again,  this  restoration  comes  by  forgiveness.  . 
There  is  a  truth  in  the  doctrine  of  absolution.  \ 
Man  may  forgive  sins  !  Tlie  mercifulness  of  one 
good  man's  voice  sounds  like  a  decree  of  pardon 
from  Heaven,  and  the  condemnation  of  men 
sounds  like  a  knell  on  the  soul,  binding  it  to  sin. 
The  restoring  power  of  forgiveness,  the  degrading 
power  of  severity,  is  vested  in  the  Christian  com- 
munity, the  voice  of  the  minister  being  but  the 
expression  of  their  judgment.  Restoration  is 
the  essential  work  of  our  Christianity.  To  save 
men's  souls  from  sin  is  every  good  man's  work. 
Suppose  a  man  is  overtaken  by  temptation  and 
sins.  Shall  he  keep  it  to  himself  all  his  life  long, 
and  be  before  God  and  man  false  ?  Shall  he  con- 
fess it  to  his  brother,  and  thus  lift  the  burden 
from  off  his  own  soul  ?  Ay,  but  how  does  he 
know  who  is  his  brother  ?  Is  it  certain  that  from 
those  who  bear  the  peculiar  relation  of  "breth- 
ren" he  will  get  the  forgiveness  and  sympathy 


156  RESTORE   SUCH  AN   ONE. 

which  leads  to  his  restoration  ?  Can  a  man  in 
doctrinal  doubt  go  to  the  members  of  his  own 
religious  sect  to  have  it  resolved  ?  Are  they 
not  the  very  ones  who  will  frown  upon  his  doubts 
and  reveal  his  sins  ?  Will  a  clergyman  unbosom 
his  mind  to  his  brethren  in  the  ministry  ?  Are 
tliey  not  in  their  official  rigor  the  least  capable  of 
understanding  him?  If  a  woman  be  overtaken 
by  sin,  will  she  tell  of  it  to  a  sister  woman  ?  Or, 
does  she  not  feel  instinctively  that  in  her  own 
sex  she  will  find  the  sternest  and  most  merciless 
Judge? 

It  ought  not  to  be  true,  but  I  am  afraid  it  is, 
that  we,  by  our  want  of  sympathy  and  unmerci- 
ful behavior,  by  the  un-Christ-like  way  in  which 
we  break  down  the  bridge  behind  the  penitent 
one,  keep  many  a  man  in  sin.  If  we  know  our- 
selves for  what  we  are, — poor,  weak  sinners, 
struggling  for  light  and  strength, — we  will  be 
ready  to  lend  a  heli)ing  hand  to  our  brother  or 
sister  who  may  be  no  more  weak,  but  only  more 
tempted  than  ourselves. 


XXIX. 

SENDING  THEIR  REGRETS. 
**  Zbe^  all  .  .  .  began  to  make  ejcuse."— Luke  xiv.  18. 

It  is  not  necessary  to  rehearse  more  than  in 
outline  the  parable  of  the  Great  Supper.  Our 
Lord  says:  "The  kingdom  of  heaven  is  like 
unto  a  certain  king  who  made  a  supper  and 
invited  many  guests.  When  the  supper  was 
ready  and  served  he  sent  his  servants  to  remind 
the  guests  that  they  should  come  to  table. 
Whereupon  with  one  consent  they  all  began  to 
make  excuse.  One  said,  '  I  have  bought  a  farm 
and  I  must  go  and  examine  it.'  Another  said, 
'  I  have  invested  in  five  yoke  of  oxen  and  I  must 
go  and  look  at  them.'  Another  said,  'I  have 
married  a  wife  and  of  course  I  cannot  come.'  " 

The  first  thing  to  be   noticed  is  the  formal 
politeness  of  the  people  who  had  been  biddenj^ 
and  who  declined  to  co'  e.     They  were  not  rude. 
They  sent  their  regrets.     They  fulfilled  all  the 
requirements  of  courtesy.     The  second  thing  to  ^ 
be  noticed  is  that  the  excuses  were  only  excuses,  A 
and  not  reasons.     There  does  not  seem  to  have 
been   any   expectation    on   their    part   that   the 

157 


158  SENDING  THEIR   REGRETS. 

explanations  which  they  sent  would  be  taken  as 
hona  fide  explanations.  They  were  mere  pre- 
texts.    It  appears  on  the  surface  of  the  jjarable 

V  that  the  real  reason  why  they  stayed  away  was 
because  they  did  not  wish  to  go.  It  was  not  due 
to  rudeness  nor  to  hostility,  but  to  indifference 
and  preoccupation. 

This  brings  us  face  to  face  with  our  subject. 
The  standing  obstacle  in  the  way  of  religion  is 

"^^  not  disbelief  nor  enmity  against  God,  but  dis- 
taste for  tlie  things  of  religion,  and  preoccupa- 
tion with  the  things  of  life.  It  is  to  be  noticed 
also  that  by  the  terms  of  the  parable  it  is  not 
preoccupation  with  bad  things.  There  is  noth- 
ing evil  about  a  farm  or  a  yoke  of  oxen,  nor,  of 
necessity,  about  a  wife.  None  of  these  things 
make  one  deny  God  or  be  insolent  to  Him.  At 
their  worst  they  simply  make  one  indifferent,  and 
take  away  the  zest  for  the  activities  of  religion 
and  for  intercourse  with  God.  In  arranging  the 
programme  for  a  day's  activities,  for  example, 
or  for  the  work  of  a  season,  one  takes  account 
of  almost  everything  except  provision  for  his 
religious  necessities.  When  a  parent  is  arrang- 
ing a  scheme  for  his  child's  education,  and  the 
plan  of  his  child's  life,  he  equips  him  as  far  as 
he  is  able  with  all  the  provision  which  is  neces- 
sary to  make  him  successful  in  the  world,  but  he 
does  not  as  a  rule  spend  a  great  deal  of  time  or 
mone}^  or  thought  upon  those  things  which  will 
fit  the  child  to  live  on  friendly  terms  with  God. 


SENDING  THEIR  REGRETS.  159 

But,  it  is  objected  by  the  practical  man,  this  is 
all  that  is  really  possible.  Your  way  of  speak- 
ing of  religion  as  a  feast  is  not  true  to  the  facts. 
You  may  call  it  a  necessity,  if  you  will ;  you  may 
insist  upon  it  as  a  duty,  as  much  as  you  will ;  but 
we  would  prefer  that  you  should  be  honest  and 
not  speak  of  it  as  a  festivity.  We  will  go  to 
church  as  we  will  go  to  the  routine  of  a  training 
school,  but  do  not  ask  us  to  go  in  the  same 
mood  in  which  a  hungry  man  goes  to  a  ban- 
quet. There  is  much  of  truth  in  this  objection. 
Indeed,  it  is  altogether  true.  Religion  is  dis- 
agreeable to  many.  Oar  Lord  was  described 
long  ago  as  "a  dry  root  out  of  a  barren  soil, 
without  form  or  comeliness  that  men  should 
desire  him."  It  is  difficult  for  us  to  sympathize 
heartily  with  the  rhapsodies  of  the  Psalmist. 
He  declares  that  he  had  rather  be  a  doorkeeper 
in  the  house  of  the  Lord  than  to  dwell  in  the 
spacious  tents  of  the  wicked.  We  are  not  so 
sure  about  that.  If  the  tents  are  sufficiently 
spacious  and  well  furnished,  and  the  table  and 
the  music  well  equipped,  we  possibly  would  find 
more  pleasure  in  that  surrounding  than  we 
would  by  playing  sexton  at  the  door  of  a  church. 

This  is  true.  But  while  in  our  sober  moments 
we  lament  it,  we  are  satisfied  in  the  bottom  of 
our  hearts  that  it  ought  not  to  be  true.  There 
is  something  in  the  soul  of  every  sane  man 
which  responds  to  the  invitation  of  the  Great 
King.     It  compels  him  at  least  to  reply  to  that 


X 


X 


160  SENDING  THEIR   REGRETS. 

invitation  courteously,  and  deters  liim  from  say- 
ing boldly  that  he  has  no  taste  for  the  feast  which 
is  spread.  Now,  why  cannot  duty  and  inclination 
be  brought  to  harmonize  ?  If  the  things  of  God 
be  those  things  which  the  secret  soul  delights  in, 
why  cannot  the  everyday  soul  be  brought  to 
possess  the  same  palate  which  is  possessed  by  the 
inmost  nature  ?  We  reply  they  can  be  brought 
into  harmony,  but  not  without  serious  effort.  It 
is  not  at  all  that  an  intentionally  wicked  man  is 
hostile  to  his  Father  in  heaven  ;  it  is  that  the 
tenants  of  the  kingdom  can  become  so  engrossed 
with  the  activities  of  their  holding,  that  they 
fall  out  of  intimate  relationshiiD  with  the"  King 
himself. 

The  thing  to  be  deplored  is  the  loss  of  spiritual 
sensibility,  the  elimination  of  religious  taste. 
For  illustration  :  A  young  man  with  a  longing 
for  travel  and  a  taste  for  art  sets  about  the  task 
of  accumulating  a  fortune,  with  the  intention  of 
ultimately  gratifying  those  longings.  His  busi- 
ness, when  he  begins,  is  a  torture,  but  he  holds  to 
it  for  the  sake  of  the  use  to  which  he  means  to 
apply  his  fortune  when  he  shall  have  secured  it. 
Years  afterward  he  has  become  rich.  He  is  able 
to  retire.  But  he  discovers  to  his  consternation 
that  his  early  tastes  are  all  gone.  His  sordid 
habits  have  created  within  him  a  sordid  soul. 
The  farm,  the  oxen,  the  domestic  exigencies 
have  these  dangerous  possibilities,  that  they 
destroy,   or  at  least  render  less  sensitive,   the 


SENDING  THEIR  REGRETS.  161 

religious  faculties.  Religion  has  a  language  of 
its  own.  It  has  its  own  customs,  its  own  de- 
mands, its  ow^n  range  of  activities.  Long-con- 
tinued neglect  of  them  results,  first,  in  indiffer- 
ence, then  in  incapacity,  and,  if  pursued  far 
enough,  ends  in  hostility. 

It  is  a  repeated  teaching  of  the  Master  that  in 
order  to  go  into  the  secrets  of  God  there  is  neces- 
sary a  loosening  of  hold  upon  the  things  of  life. 
It  is  not  necessary  that  one  should  turn  upon 
them  or  revile  them  or  pronounce  them  bad,  but 
he  must  "use  them  as  not  abusing  them."  To 
come  into  practical  religion  an  act  of  will  is 
necessary.  People  do  not  realize  ordinarily  how 
strenuous  this  act  of  will  must  be.  Our  Lord 
uses  the  most  emphatic  terms.  "Strive,"  He 
says.  The  word  is  even  more  emphatic  than  that, 
it  is  "Agonize  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate." 
The  gate  is  strait.  It  is  so  difficult  of  entrance, 
and  the  opposite  path  is  so  easy  of  entrance,  that 
if  one  really  cares  to  effect  an  entrance  into  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  he  must  take  its  gates  by 
storm. 

Finally,  notice  in  this  parable  the  way  in  which 
it  illuminates  the  character  and  habit  of  the  Host 
Himself.  His  hospitality  is  exhaustless.  From 
His  infinite  yearning  flows  out  the  invitation  not 
only  to  the  guests  originally  bidden,  but  to  those 
who  toil  along  the  liighways  and  crouch  behind 
the  hedges.  But  His  dignity  is  equal  to  His 
hospitality.     He    presses    no   man    beyond    the 


162  SENDING  THEIR  REGRETS, 

man's  own  will.  He  accepts  the  "regrets"  in 
the  same  spirit  in  which  tliey  are  offered.  If  any 
man  does  not  care  to  come,  he  need  not.  He  is 
allowed  to  go  his  own  way,  and  his  place  is  filled. 
We  wish  we  could  shake  loose  the  secret  of  God's 
final  intent  as  to  that  great  mass  of  humanity  who 
find  nothing  attractive  in  the  feast  that  He 
spreads.  Shall  they  pass  through  the  whole  range 
of  their  existence  estranged  from  God?  Or  will 
it  be  that,  either  in  this  stage  or  in  some  other, 
thej'  shall  be  driven  by  their  constantly  increas- 
ing soul  hunger  to  satisfy  themselves  at  the  feast 
of  God  ?  The  answer  to  this  question  is  not  yet 
available,  but  one  thing  is  clear  from  this  and 
from  all  the  teaching  of  the  New  Testament,  that 
the  desire  of  the  Father  in  heaven  is  expressed 
in  "My  son,  give  me  thine  heart." 


XXX. 

IMITATION  OF  CHRIST. 

"  Scarcely  for  a  rigbteous  man  will  one  Die :  ^et  pcraD* 
venture  for  a  ciooD  man  some  \voul5  even  Dare  to  Me. 
asut  ©oO  cojnmenOetb  bie  love  towarO  us,  tn  tbat  vvbile 
we  were  get  sinners,  Gbrist  DieD  for  us."— Komans  v.  7,  8. 

The  real  difficulty  in  tlie  way  of  God's  holding 
friendly  feelings  to  men  would  seem  to  be  not  so 
much  their  wickedness  as  their  distasteful ness. 
It  is  easier,  as  a  rule,  to  love  a  wicked  thing  than  a 
disgusting  thing.  When  one  sees  humanity  in  a 
mass,  the  thing  which  is  a^^t  to  impress  him  is  its 
excessive  unloveliness.  God's  affection  for  man 
has  stood  this,  the  most  difficult  of  all  tests. 
Following  God's  way  as  far  as  may  be,  how 
ought  the  Christian  to  regard  the  evil  that  is  in 
the  world?  How  should  a  Christ-like  man  think 
and  act  toward  wicked  men  and  women  ?  Of 
course,  I  assume  that  he  does  not  set  himself  on 
any  vantage  ground  of  self-righteousuess,  from 
which  he  might  regard  himself  as  separate  from 
the  rest,  but  bearing  in  mind  that  he  wishes  to  be 
like  God,  and  at  the  same  time  that  he  lives  among 
men,  how  shall  he  bear  himself  toward  the  evil  ? 

Here  is  the  answer :  He  should  follow  in  the 
path  of  Christ,  as  Christ  followed  in  the  i)ath  of 

163 


X 


164  IMITATION  OF  CHRIST. 

~"  God.  Jesus'  path  is  very  plain.  His  incarna- 
tion was  simply  the  expression  in  time  and  space 
of  God's  eternal  and  infinite  yearning  toward  His 
children.  The  salient  point  of  Christ's  character 
was  His  pitifulness.  But  it  is  to  be  noticed  that 
it  was  pity  for  sin  rather  than  pity  for  suffering. 
One  should  not  miss  the  fact  that  His  miracles 
V  of  healing,  and  feeding  the  hungry,  were  inci- 
dental. He  never  regarded  them  as  His  chief 
work.  He  passed  away  from  them  to  something- 
else  the  instant  He  was  able.  His  physical 
deeds  of  might  were  few,  His  moral  miracles  of 
healing  were  continuous.  The  sinner  had  an  in- 
finite attraction  for  Him  as  a  sinner. 

"^  Now,  it  is  not  easy  to  imitate  Him  here.  Two 
things  are  easy.  The  one  is  to  have  one's  pity 
melted  at  the  sight  of  suffering  ;  the  other  is 
to  blaze  out  in  indignation  at  the  sight  of  wrong 
being  done.  It  is  much  easier,  for  instance,  to 
pity  Antonio,  the  easy-going  fool  who  thought- 
lessly imperiled  a  pound  of  his  own  flesh  for  no 
higher  purpose  than  to  furnish  gewgaws  for  a 
feather-headed  spendthrift,  than  to  follow  the 
mind  of  the  poet,  and  give  one's  sympathy  to 
Shylock.  But  Shylock  it  is  who  merits  the  pity. 
He  was  to  be  pitied  because  lie  Avas  devoured  by 
his  own  greed.  He  was  to  be  jiitied  because  he 
was  outraged,  despoiled  of  his  goods,  of  the  love 
of  his  daughter,  the  only  pledge  of  his  lost  LeaJi; 
because  he  was  blind  and  raging  with  anguish; 

__because  he  was  devouring  his  own  soul. 


IMITATION  OF  CHRIST.  165 

When    one    sees  a     brutal,    poverty-stricken*" 
mother  beating  her  helpless  child,  one's  indigna- 
tion blazes  out  at  the  mother,  and  the  pity  goes 
out  toward  the  child.     Christ,  however,   would 
probably  have  judged  in  both  cases  differently. 
His  pity  would  have  gone  to  8hyloc7c,  who  was  ^ 
the  sinner,  rather  than  to  Antonio,  who  was  tlie'^ 
fool.     It  would  have  gone  to  the  brutal  mother, 
who  was  storing  up  for  herself  anguish  for  the 
years   to  come,  rather  than  to  the  child,  whose 
sufferings  were  physical  and  would  be  forgotten_ 
in  an  hour. 

Again,  it  is  easy  to  pity  a  whole  class  of  of- 
fenders, any  individual  of  whom  would  fill  us 
with  indignation  and  loathing.  Many  a  man 
and  woman  is  active  in  prison  reform  associa- 
tions, Magdalene  societies,  in  enterprises  of  all 
sorts  which  have  for  their  object  the  betterment 
of  a  whole  class  of  individuals,  who  would  find  it 
excessively  difficult  to  enter  into  Christ's  feeling 
toward  the  individuals  which  constitute  the  very 
class  they  are  trying  to  benefit. 

But  the  difficulties  are  to  be  overcome  ;  they 
are  not  to  be  regarded  as  final.  The  path  of  the 
Christian  is  not  hard  to  see,  however  difficult 
it  is  to  be  walked  in.  "To  be  grieved  and  wor- 
ried with  the  burden  of  one's  own  sins"  is  only 
the  starting  place  of  a  Christian  pilgrimage. 
"Brethren,  if  a  man  be  overtaken  in  a  fault,  ye 
which  are  spiritual,  restore  such  an  one  in  the 
spirit  of  meekness  ;  considering  thyself,  lest  thou 


166  IMITATION   OF  CHRIST. 

also  be  tempted.  Bear  ye  one  another's  bur- 
dens, and  so  fulfill  the  law  of  Christ." 

Bear  one  anotlier's  burdens.  The  burdens  here 
spoken  of  are  moral  burdens.  The  injunction  is 
not  primarily  to  lift  off  one's  fellow  the  load  of 
his  poverty  or  the  load  of  his  pain,  but,  as  far  as 
may  be,  to  lift  from  him  the  load  of  his  sin  and 
to  lighten  it  by  taking  part  of  it  uj)on  one's  own 
emotions.  It  is  vastly  easy  to  fall  into  cant 
here — "  Hate  the  sin  and  love  the  sinner,"  "  Deal 
gently  with  the  erring"  and  such  common2:)laces. 
These  may  be  the  exj^ressions  of  a  divine  impulse, 
but  they  may  also  be  the  veriest  rot.  It  is  possi- 
ble to  hate  the  sin  and  to  love  the  sinner,  but  it  is 
not  by  any  means  the  easy  thing  to  do  which  the 
fat-witted  moralist  imagines.  One  must  preserve 
his  power  to  make  moral  discriminations.  If  he 
lose  his  capacity  to  recognize  evil  when  he  sees 
it,  and  fall  into  the  way  of  thinking  that  there  is, 
after  all,  but  little  difference  between  good  and 
evil,  he  has  diverged  entirely  from  the  pathway 
of  Christ. 

Bearing  in  mind  this,  then,  how  shall  one  act 
in  the  premises  ?  The  commonest  method  prob- 
ably is  to  cast  the  sinner  out  of  one's  life  alto- 
gether. He  has  been  condemned  by  public 
opinion.  She  has  been  placed  under  the  ban. 
What  shall  we  do?  We  have  his  name  quietly 
removed  from  the  club  books.  We  strike  her 
name  from  our  visiting  list.  So  far  as  we  have 
the  power  we  cast  him  or  her  into  outer  darkness. 


IMITATION  OF  CHRIST.  167 

That  is  to  say,  we  imitate  the  action  of  Christ 
sitting  upon  His  judgment  tlirone,  rather  than 
the  action  of  Jesus  going  up  and  down  doing 
good.  It  may  be  riglit  to  do  so.  There  are 
cases  where  the  condemnation  of  tiie  Christian 
must  be  visited  upon  the  sin  and  the  sinner 
together.  In  these  cases  they  are  so  bound  to- 
gether that  there  is  no  possibility  of  separating 
them.  But  such  cases  are  rare,  and,  when  they 
do  occur,  should  be  dealt  with  with  the  utmost 
charity. 

The  way  of  Jesus  is  the  way  of  the  physician. 
The  doctor  knows  no  disgusts.  He  sees  and 
handles  and  experiences  things  from  which  the 
layman  shrinks  with  horror.  His  instinct  of 
healing  overcomes  his  sensibility.  "Let  the 
same  mind  be  in  you,  therefore,  which  was  also 
in  Christ."  In  another  degree,  of  course,  but 
"be  ye  like  minded  with  Him."  As  one  comes 
into  His  spirit,  little  by  little  he  becomes  capable 
of  dealing  with  the  evil  which  is  in  the  world. 
In  the  same  degree  that  he  comes  into  this  spirit, 
the  instinct  of  the  sinner  comes  to  recognize  in 
him  a  friend  to  his  person,  while  he  is  at  the 
same  time  the  stern  judge  of  his  sin.  This  divine 
combination  of  moral  pity  and  moral  indignation 
is  the  thing  which  has  attracted  the  generations 
to  the  Master.  It  will  also  attract  the  indi- 
viduals of  each  generation  to  the  disciple,  in  pro- 
portion as  he  shows  that  the  same  mind  is  in  him 
which  was  also  in  Christ. 


< 


XXXI. 

SOME  FELL  AMONG  THORNS. 

"  ^bat  vvblcb  fell  among  tborns,  are  tbev?,  wbicb,  wben 
tbeg  bave  bearD,  go  tortb,  anD  are  cbol^eD  witb  tbe  cares, 
aiiD  ricbes,  auD  pleasurcB  of  tb(s  life,  anO  bring  no  fruit 

to  perfection."— Luke  viii.  14. 

The  biographer  says  that  people  from  every 
city  went  out  to  hear  Him.  He  sat  in  an  elevated 
place  and  overlooked  the  crowd.  His  mind  seems 
to  have  dwelt  upon  the  thought :  How  will  my 
teaching  operate  upon  this  mass  of  people  ?  He 
thought  of  His  teaching  constantly  as  seed,  but 
in  the  present  instance  he  concerned  himself  not 
so  much  with  the  nature  of  the  seed  itself  as  with 
that  of  the  soil  upon  which  it  should  fall.  Out 
of  this  thought  arose  the  Parable  of  the  Sower. 
This  good  seed  scattered  broadcast  fell  in  all  sorts 
of  places  and  conditions.  What  would  the  hnrvest 
be  ?  He  recognized  that  the  outcome  would  de- 
pend largely  upon  the  soil  itself.  However  good 
the  seed  might  be,  the  nature  of  the  ground  had 
still  to  be  considered.  He  saw  then  at  the 
outset  that  much  of  his  work  would  be  thrown 
away  altogether.  Some  fell  upon  the  wayside. 
The  seed  found  no  lodgment.     The  birds  of  the 

168 


SOME  FELL  AMONG  THORNS.  169 

air  gathered  it  up.  Much  of  it  fell  upon  rock 
and  the  sun  shriveled  it.  Some  of  it  again  fell 
upon  soil  which  was  good  enough,  but  there  was 
not  enough  of  it.  He  clearly  recognized  that  His 
truth,  like  the  goodness  of  God,  would  be  in 
great  part  \vasted. 

But  there  is  a  special  set  of  conditions  witlr^ 
which  He  dealt  more  at  length,  and  it  is  to  those 
which  I  would  direct  your  attention.     Some  of  it 
would  fall  among  thorns.     The  soil  out  of  which 
thorns  grow  is  as  a  rule  good  soil.     There  is  no 
better  ground  for  religion  than  that  from  which 
springs  the  cares  and  riches  and  pleasures  of  life, 
but    the    difficulty  is,    the  soil  is  pre-empted. 
Leaving  metaphor,  the  average  nature  of  man  is 
such  that  the  religion  of  Christ  strikes  root  in  it.,)<^ 
It  is  never  altogether  eradicated,  but  it  comes  to 
no  determinate  result.     It  does  not  perish,  but  it 
is  choked.     It  does  not  die,  but  it  does  not  pro- 
duce.    It  takes  its  chances  with  the  other  activi- 
ties of  life,  and  does  the  best  it  can.     Now,  the 
Master  sketches  here  the  three  great  rivals  with 
which  religion  is  compelled  to  strive  in  the  aver-,_ 
age  man's  life.     The  first  of  these  he  calls  by  thes 
word  "cares."     I  suppose  that  that  means,  inA' 
the  rough,  the  struggle  for  existence.     Most  men 
are  compelled  to  care.     They  must  earn   their 
livelihood  ;  they  must  sustain  their  bodies;  tliey 
must  furnish  food,  clothing,  and  shelter  for  them- 
selves and  their  families;  they  must  go  to  their 
business.      These    cares  of    necessity  are   most 


IVO  SOME   FELL  AMONG  THORNS. 

exacting.  They  absorb  the  thought ;  they 
take  time  and  attention  ;  tliey  withdraw  tlie  time 
and  attention  wliich,  if  one  had  leisure,  might 
possibly  be  devoted  to  the  cultivation  of  the 
soul.  But  they  not  only  withdraw  the  energy 
temporarily  from  the  affairs  of  the  soul,  they  iix 
a  habit  which  renders  it  difficult  for  the  things 
of  religion  to  secure  attention.  \  It  is  difficult,  in- 
\^  deed,  for  a  man  to  work  energetically  for  many 
'^  years  without  becoming  modified  in  his  character 
by  the  work  which  he  does.  ;  Tlie  struggle  for 
existence  is  very  hard,  and  it  seems  to  be  growing- 
harder  year  by  year.  There  would  seem  to  be 
less  time  and  energy  available  for  the  important, 
but  somewhat  remote,  necessities  of  the  soul. 
V  The  second  obstacle  he  characterizes  as 
A  "  riches."  This  is  quite  a  different  thing  from 
cares.  The  disastrous  effect  of  riches  upon  the 
soul  is  as  a  rule  not  manifest  until  one  has 
passed  through  the  period  of  work  and  secured 
a  fortune.  Nor  is  it  easy  to  define  what  riches 
mean.  What  is  a  rich  man  ?  It  is  hard  to  say. 
The  phrase  is  relative.  It  cannot  be  settled  by 
fixing  a  definite  sum.  Nevertheless,  the  temp- 
tations of  riches  are  very  peculiar.  They  are 
easily  distinguished  from  all  other  sorts  of  temp- 
tations. It  is  not  easy  to  fix  the  exact  point  at 
which  the  struggle  for  livelihood  passes  into  a 
struggle  for  accumulation  for  the  mere  sake  of 
accumulation,  but  it  does  pass  this  point  in 
thousands   of  instnnces.      When   it   does  so   its 


SOME  FELL  AMONG  THORNS.       Hi 

evil  effect  begins  to  show  itself  uj)on  tlie  soul. 
Oar  Lord  was  entirely  right  when  He  spoke  of 
the  difficulty  with  which  a  rich  man  enters  into 
the  kingdom  of  Heaven.  The  reason  is  that  the 
mode  of  action  which  characterizes  wealth  is 
almost  the  reverse  of  that  mode  which  obtains  in 
the  kingdom  of  God.  The  rich  man  is  of  neces-^ 
sity  a  solitary  man.  He  is  compelled  to  hold 
himself  aloof  from  the  mass  of  his  fellows.  When 
he  is  poor  or  in  moderate  circumstances  he  meets 
multitudes  of  men  on  an  equality ;  he  touches 
them  every  day,  almost  every  hour  of  his  life. 
But  as  he  becomes  rich  and  richer,  and  richer, 
little  by  little  he  withdraws  from  the  multitude 
of  his  companions  and  finds  his  associates  to  be 
constantly  growing  fewer  in  number,  and  they  al- 
most entirely  composed  of  men  situated  as  he  is 
himself.  If  he  pass  even  these  in  the  accumula- 
tion of  wealth,  the  time  comes  when  he  stands 
absolutely  alone.  But  in  proportion  as  a  man~ 
either  withdraws  within  himself,  or  is  driven  in 
upon  himself,  he  loses  the  capacity  to  understand 
or  be  moved  by  the  spii'it  of  Christ,  It  is  theA 
isolation  of  the  rich  man,  quite  as  much  as  his 
luxury,  which  renders  it  difficult  for  him  to  enter__ 
into  the  kingdom  of  God. 

The  third  thing  which  the  Master  refers  to  He  ^^ 
calls   the  "pleasures   of  this   world."     No   one 'A, 
Avho  understands  Him  at  all  would  accuse  Him 
of  being  the  enemy  of  pleasure.     But  He  insists 
that  pleasure  should  have  its  root  in  high  and 


172  SOME  FELL  AMONG  THORNS. 

noble  things.  That  it  should  satisfy  its  longings 
with  things  which  purify  while  they  please. 
The  pleasures  of  this  world,  according  to  His 
way  of  thinking,  are  pleasures  which  have  not 
only  their  root  but  their  fruit  in  this  world. 
They  go  nowhere,  produce  no  good  result,  bring 
no  good  fruit.  There  are  thousands  of  such 
pleasures.  Everybody  enjoys  them,  but  no  man' s 
soul  thrives  by  them. 

"^  Now,  in  the  face  of  all  this,  it  is  objected  :  "It 
is  all  inevitable.  If  the  soil  of  humanity  is  not 
well  adapted  to  the  seed  of  God,  still  it  is  the  soil 
which  God  himself  has  made.  It  is  as  it  is,  and 
the  Lord  has  made  it  so.  We  are  as  we  are,  and 
the  whole  arrangement  is  not  one  of  our  making, 
nor,  indeed,  of  our  choice,  but  it  is  one  in  which 
we  are  set  and  from  which  we  cannot  escape, 
and,  therefore,  the  one  which  we  must  accept. 
It  is  idle  to  complain  that  a  poor  man  is  devoured 

■  with  cares.  He  must  be  devoured  with  cares. 
Life  for  him  is  hard.  The  hunger  of  the  body 
recurs  every  twelve  hours  at  least.  The  hunger 
of  the  soul,  on  the  other  hand,  may  be  postponed. 
One  must  be  clad  in  garments  to  keep  from 
freezing,  but  the  garment  of  righteousness  can 
wiiit.  Pleasure  is  also  legitimate.  The  soul 
craves  it.  Life  cannot  exist  without  it.  For 
most  men  the  materials  which  satisfy  it  are  to  be 
found  in  this  world,  and  are  to  be  found  nowhere 
else."     To  these  objections  I  reply  :  All   this  is 

__  granted.      If  it  were  not  so  the  parable  would 


SOME  FELL  AMONG  THORNS.  1V3 

have  no  meaning.  Our  Lord's  appeal  here,  as"^ 
usual,  is  to  the  inner  spiritual  consciousness  of 
man,  which  feels  dissatisfaction  with  itself  and 
with  its  condition  even  at  the  time  when  it  is 
intellectually  helpless.  The  sober  judgment  de- 
clares clearly  that  that  inward  craving  is  reason- 
able. It  recognizes  the  obligation  of  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven.  Every  man  feels  that  it  is  a  para- 
mount obligation.  There  is  no  man  who  would 
deny  that  it  would  be  better  for  the  world  to  be 
good  than  for  the  world  to  be  happy  ;  that  it 
would  be  better  for  them,  if  need  be,  to  starve 
than  to  sin  ;  that  it  would  be  better  to  live  a  col- 
orless life,  without  enjoyment,  than  to  live  a  life 
rich  in  satisfaction,  but  which  ends  in  itself.  The 
conflict  is  with  two  antagonistic  elements  in  every  _ 
man's  nature. 

The  parable  simply  points  out  why  it  is  that 
we  thus  lead  feeble  lives.  It  is  because  we  strive^ 
after  opposite  ideals.  If  this  parable  were  the 
whole  of  the  teaching  of  the  Master,  it  would  add 
but  little  to  the  illumination  of  human  life,  but 
it  is  only  a  part  of  a  great  and  complete  truth. 
He  points  out  that  the  process  of  relief  is  by\> 
the  cultivation  of  the  soil.  This  cultivation  is  a 
painful  process.  It  means  the  uprooting  of  the 
thorns  which  rob  it  of  its  juices  and  strangle  the 
seed  of  good.  If  one  would  cultivate  his  soul  he 
must  be  ready  to  dig  and  plow,  and  scratch  his 
hands,  and  burn  many  of  the  products  which 
he  has  been  accustomed  to  count  valuable.     One 


174  SOME  FELL  AMONG  THORNS. 

can  see  the  world  as  it  now  is  for  himself.  If  he 
be  satisfied  with  it  of  course  he  can  let  it  alone, 
but  if  his  spiritual  imngination  is  sufficiently 
vivid  to  see  and  be  attracted  by  the  spectacle  of 
the  same  soil  bearing  not  thorns,  but  golden 
grain,  he  will  be  willing  to  pass  through  a  painful 
period  of  digging  and  burning  and  waiting  for 
the  grain  to  ripen. 


XXXIL 
THE  QUESTION  OF  TEMPERANCE. 

*'  5obn  tbc  :fl3aptf6t  came  neitber  eating  breaD,  nor  Drlnft* 
fng  wine ;  anD  ge  sa^,  Ibe  batb  a  Devil.  Zbc  Son  of  man 
Is  come  eating  anD  Orinhlng ;  anD  ge  sag,  JBcbolO  a  glut* 
tonous  man,  anO  a  winesblbber."— Luke  vii.  33,  34. 

What  has  the  Church  to  say  concerning  the— 
matter  of  temperance?  From  the  pulpit,  of 
course,  one  speaks  not  as  a  publicist  or  as  a 
reformer,  but  as  a  pastor  to  Christian  people. 
I  would  like  to  state  briefly  what  I  believe 
Christ  and  His  Church  to  teach  His  people  con- 
cerning their  duty  in  this  matter.  It  would  be 
a  waste  of  time  to  dwell  very  long  upon  a  state- 
ment of  the  evils  produced  by  drunkenness. 
Everybody  knows  them,  and  everybody  deplores 
them.  The  waste  of  substance,  the  disease, 
crime,  poverty,  distress  of  mind,  body,  and 
estate  which  is  caused  by  this  evil  is  incal- 
culable. Everybody  knows  that.  In  the  face  of 
this  situation  what  shall  the  pulpit  say  to  the 
people  as  to  their  duty  ?  There  is  a  very  short 
and  easy  answer.  It  is  one  which  is  frequently  \ 
given.  It  is  contained  in  two  words,  "Totah^ 
abstinence."  "" 

175 


IV  6  THE   QUESTION  OF  TEMPERANCE. 

There  is  very  grave  danger  in  laying  upon  the 
Bible  a  burden  which  it  cannot  bear.  The  Bible 
will  not  take  upon  itself  the  responsibility  of 
teaching  total  abstinence.  I  am  quite  alive  to 
the  fact  that  right  at  this  point  some  will  use 
their  liberty  as  a  cloak  for  maliciousness,  and 
others  will  be  offended  and  walk  no  more  with 
us.  This  is  unfortunate,  but  it  is  no  new  misfor- 
tune. There  have  been  unreasonable  peoj^le  in 
the  world  for  many  generations.  They  were  not 
satisfied  with  John  the  Bax)tist's  course,  and 
declared  that  he  had  a  devil  because  he  was  a 
total  abstainer.  Then  they  turned  upon  his 
Master  and  called  Him  a  glutton  and  a  wine- 
bibber  because  He  was  not  a  total  abstainer. 
The  business  of  the  pulpit  is  not  to  please  any 
class,  but  to  state  the  truth  of  God. 
^  Now,  what  is  the  attitude  of  the  Scripture 
toward  the  vice  of  drunkenness  ?  It  is  to  be 
noted  in  the  first  place  that  it  was  a  vice  per- 
fectly well  known  to  the  writers  of  the  New 
Testament,  and  one  which  came  under  the  eye  of 
the  Master  during  His  life.  Horace  and  Plautus 
V  and  Terence  and  Plutarch  and  Martial,  all  alike, 
treated  this  vice  in  a  fashion  which  shows  that  it 
was  so  common  that  it  was  scarcely  regarded  as 
a  vice  at  all.  So,  if  the  New  Testament  Scrip- 
tures fail  to  say  with  regard  to  it  what  some 
would  wish  they  had  said,  it  is  not  because  they 
were  not  familiar  with  the  facts,  or  because  the 
_^facts  were  less  flagrant  in  their  day  than  in  ours. 


THE  QUESTION   OF  TEMPERANCE.  177 

In  the  second  place,  it  is  to  be  noticed  that  the~" 
Scriptures  class  drunlieniiess  with  other  sins,  and^ 
refuse  to  put  it  in  a  category  by  itself.  Cur- 
rent custom  to-day,  unfortunately,  takes  a  very 
different  attitude.  It  singles  out  this  particular 
sin  as  though  it  were  something  exceptional — 
exceptional  either  in  the  irresistible  quality  of 
its  temptation,  or  exceptional  in  the  fact  that  it 
is  not  really  as  mortal  an  offense  as  the  others 
alongside  which  it  is  named.  There  are  a  dozen 
euphemisms  for  being  drunk.  Every  other  sin  \^  \ 
is  called  by  its  own  name  ;  it  is  not  disguised  by  "^  '^ 
some  gentler  term.  Theft  is  theft,  lying  is  lying, 
and  adultery  is  adultery  ;  but  in  common  speech 
there  are  a  dozen  terms  for  being  drunk,  which  do 
not  altogether  convey  the  idea  that  a  man  who 
gets  drunk  is  guilty  of  a  moral  fault.  The 
Scriptures  never  make  this  mistake.  They  call 
the  evil  by  its  right  name,  and  class  it  with  other 
sins  for  which  the  sinner  himself  is  responsible. 
The  popular  way  of  dealing  with  this  produces 
two  evils.  In  the  first  place,  it  breaks  down^^X 
the  moral  resistance  of  the  person  who  is  tempted, 
if  it  is  intimated  to  him  that  he  is  a  "poor  victim 
of  drink,"  especially  if  it  is  intimated  that  he  is 
the  unfortunate  possessor  of  an  inherited  appe- 
tite. He  very  quickly  takes  the  kind-hearted 
but  foolish  reformer  at  his  word,  and  regards 
himself  as  a  victim  rather  than  a  sinner.  In  the 
second  place,  popular  speech  directs  the  public  )x^  ><" 
indignation  against  the   wrong    party.      If  one__ 


X 


178  THE   QUESTION  OF  TEMPERANCE. 

tithe  of  the  public  abuse  which  is  addressed  to 
the  rum-seller  were  brought  to  bear  upon  the 
rum-drinker,  the  evil,  if  not  eradicated,  would  be 
greatly  lessened.  For,  after  all,  the  man  who 
sells  the  rum  is  not  the  criminal.  At  most  he  is 
only  an  accessory  before  the  fact.  We  do  not 
pity  the  man  who  commits  burglary,  and  fine  and 
,-  imprison  the  man  who  sells  him  the  Jimmy.  It 
would  be  just  as  wise  to  do  so,  as  to  pity  the  fel- 
low who  gets  drunk  and  fine  the  saloon-keeper 
who  sells  him  the  liquor.  If  public  opinion 
could  be  so  revolutionized  that  for  a  period  of 
six  months  it  would  treat  the  man  who  gets 
drunk  as  it  does  to-day  the  thief  or  the  sodomite, 
^drunkards  would  come  to  be  very  scarce. 

What  does  Christianity  x^rovide  in  the  way  of 
incentive  or  in  the  way  of  restraint  ?  The  chief 
thing  is  the  simple  teaching  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment as  to  the  value,  the  destiny,  and  sanctity  of 
,,^  the  human  body.  It  says  to  every  follower  of 
A.  Christ,  "Your  body  is  a  temple  of  the  Holy 
Ghost."  If  you  abuse  it  you  commit  not  only  a 
physical  fault,  but  an  offense  Avhich  is  in  its 
nature  sacrilege.  "  Know  ye  not  that  your  body 
is  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost  ? "  Your  bodies 
are  members  of  Christ. 

When  we   part   from   the   Christian   teaching 

concerning  the  sanctity  of  the  body,  it  would  be 

y<(  hard  to  establish  any  moral  ground  against  either 

drunkenness  or  suicide.     Besides  this,  however, 

it  adds  "a  counsel  of  perfection"  to  what  is  a 


THE  QUESTION   OF  TEMPERANCE.  179 

universal  rule.     It  says  to  the  iiulividnal  Chris'^" 
tian  :   "  Your  liberty  in  tliis  matter  ought  not  to 
be  interfered  with.     So  far  as  the  Church  is  con- 
cerned it  shall   not  be  interfered    with.      The 
Church   counsels   for   you  temperance — that  is, 
self-control.     But  at  the  same  time  it  advises  you 
that,  if  in  any  case  you  are  persuaded  that  giving 
up  your  own  liberty  will  clearly  benefit  another^ 
man,  you  ought  to  sacrifice  it  without  hesitation.A 
But  then  it  says:  "You  must  yourself  be  the 
judge  as  to  whether  the  sacrifice  of  your  liberty 
will  help  another  man.     You  must  be  the  judge. 
You  must  not  allow  the  conscience  of  your  weak 
brother  to  judge  for  you.     His  conscience  may  be 
as  weak  as  his  pity  is  strong."  — > 

Still  further,  the  Master  provides  the  Church 
as  an  institution  wherein  the  weak  are  to  bekeptx, 
up  to  the  standard  by  the  counsel,  example,  and-^ 
moral  stimulus  of  those  who  are  stronger.     He 
furnishes  the  sacraments  of  the  Church,  the  divine 
channels  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  as  the  means  whereby 
additional  strength  is  vouchsafed  to  the  wills  of 
tempted  men.     Probably  no  two  men  ever  lived 
whose   opinions   upon   the    matter  are  of   more/^ 
value  than  those  of  Father  Mathew  and  John  B. 
Gough.     They  both  declared  over  and  over  again 
that   recovery   from   the   habit   of    drunkenness 
is  scarcely  to  be   looked  for  or  expected  apart 
from  religion  and  religious  institutions.     Father 
Mathew  led  his  reformed  drunkards  to  the  chan-"V' 
eel  rail,  and  had  them   take  the  vow  of  temper-_ 


X 


X 


180  THE  QUESTION  OF  TEMPERANCE. 

ance  before  the  altar.  Mr.  Gough  tried  to  awaken 
in  each  a  profound,  conscious,  religious  exper- 
ience. Both  alike  fastened  the  idea  of  reform  to 
the  idea  of  religion.  Only  thus,  they  both  de- 
clared, was  it  likely  to  be  safe  and  to  work  out 
good  results. 

But  the  thing  with  which  I  am  concerned  just 
now  is  not  primarily  the  best  method  of  reform- 
ing drunkards,  but  to  ascertain  and  state  what 
is  the  law  for  the  ordinary  Christian  as  to  the 
use  of  drink.  There  can  be  no  better  and  shorter 
formula  devised  than  to  say  :  In  this,  as  in  all 
things  else,  he  should  follow  the  example  of  his 
Master,  Clirist.  It  will  be  enough  if  he  follow  in 
His  footsteps.  It  will  not  be  necessary  and  will 
liardly  be  safe  for  him  to  try  to  go  beyond  or 
improve  upon  either  the  teaching  or  the  practice 
of  Jesus. 


XXXIII. 
THE  GOSPEL  FOR  THE  POOR. 

"5C6US  answereO  anD  saiD  unto  tbem,  (3o  an&  sbow 
Jobn  those  tbings  wblcb  ge  see  :  .  .  .  tbe  poor  bave  tbe 
OOSpel  preacbeD  unto  tbem."— Matthew  xi.  4,  5. 

John  the  Baptist,  lying  in  tbe  dungeon  of  a 
wretched  prison  and  pondering  upon  the  cause 
which  had  brought  him  there,  begins  to  question 
either  the  power  or  the  good  will  of  his  master, 
Christ.  Thereupon  he  sends  messengers  to  say 
to  Him  :  "If  You  are,  indeed,  all  that  I  have 
supposed,  what  of  me  ?  Have  You  forgotten 
me  1  or  is  the  programme  which  You  announced, 
and  which  I  have  been  the  first  to  attempt  to 
carry  into  effect,  an  impossible  programme?" 
Jesus'  reply  was  a  very  strange  one.  He  bids 
the  messengers  look  about  them  and  return  to 
the  Baptist  and  tell  him  what  they  had  seen. 
The  most  striking  thing  which  they  saw  was  that 
a  message  of  good  news  was  being  told  to  the 
poor. 

The  most  common  and  most  widely  diffused 
form  of  pain  in  this  world  is  poverty.  It  is  the 
prolific  mother  of  an  innumerable  brood  of  ills. 
From  it  spring  physical  pain,   mental   distress, 

181 


182  THE   GOSPEL  FOR  THE   POOR. 

starvation  of  the  affections — a  thousand  other 
misfortunes.  God  spreads  a  feast  in  this  world 
for  all,  but  the  weak,  the  foolish,  the  unfortu- 
nate, cannot  get  to  the  table.  One  who  is  strong 
snatches  his  own  portion,  and  that  of  a  dozen 
others,  and  the  dozen  thus  robbed  go  hungry. 
In  their  distress  they  cry  out:  "Art  Thou  He 
that  should  come,  or  do  we  look  for  another  ?  Is 
the  Gospel  of  Christ  really  the  last  word  of  com- 
fort to  the  poor? " 

Never  did  poverty  appear  so  hard  as  it  does 
to-day.  This  is  not  so  much  because  there  is 
more  of  it, — there  is  j^robably  less  of  it, — but  it 
hurts  more  than  it  ever  did  before.  Every  poor 
man  lives  to-day  in  plain  sight  of  the  luxuries 
and  pleasures  of  the  rich.  A  century  ago  he 
lived  out  of  sight  of  them.  Then,  the  poor  man's 
sensibilities  have  grown  in  quickness,  as  have  the 
sensibilities  of  all  men.  Besides  that,  we  live  in 
a  commercial  age.  Wealth  is  the  standard  of 
success.  The  i)oor  man  feels  not  only  the  lack 
of  physical  necessities,  but  he  suffers  in  his 
soul  with  the  burning,  shameful  sense  of  being 
a  failure.  It  requires  a  rare  sj^irit  to  even  sym- 
pathize with  Professor  Agassiz  when  he  said  : 
"  I  have  no  time  to  make  money."  The  absence 
of  social  rank  or  caste  makes  poverty  harder 
to  bear  than  it  has  been  at  other  times.  Being 
fixed  in  a  poor  caste  has  its  compensations. 
It  enables  such  a  poor  man  to  live  according  to 
•the  custom  of  his  caste.     In  America  there  is  no 


THE  GOSPEL  FOR  THE  POOR.  183 

such  protection.  At  any  rate,  all  will  agree  that 
there  never  has  been  a  time  when  tlie  problem  of 
poverty  has  so  exercised  the  minds  of  men  as  it 
has  to-day.  How  is  it  to  be  solved?  Has  Christ 
anything  to  say  in  the  premises  ?  Many  roundly 
assert  either  that  He  has  no  answer  to  give,  or 
that  His  answer  is  a  mockery.  Secular  science 
is  in  the  liabit  of  assuming  that  this  is  a  social 
question  which  comes  among  her  perquisites,  and 
is  rather  inclined  to  warn  the  Church  off  the 
the  premises. 

What,  then,  is  the  Gospel  of  Christ  for  the 
poor?  Before  attempting  to  state  it  briefly,  I 
would  like  to  call  your  attention  for  a  moment  to 
the  non-Christian  gospels  which  have  been  pro- 
mulgated. These  are  mainly  two.  Neither  of 
tliem  is  satisfactory.  The  first  is  the  purely  eco- V 
nomical  one.  It  says  that  poverty  is  not  natural, 
but  artificial ;  that  it  is  the  consequence  of  vicious 
laws  and  customs  ;  that  these  laws  and  customs 
have  either  grown  up  or  been  established  in  the 
interest  of  the  rich  ;  that  the  cure  for  existing 
evils  is  some  better  and  more  equitable  mode  of 
distribution— by  law,  if  possible;  by  force,  if 
necessary.  It  is  probable  that  a  majority  of  the 
voters  in  this  country  feel  more  or  less  in  this 
way.  It  would  be  very  shortsighted  not  to  take 
account  of  this  widespread  feeling.  Carlyle 
says  ;  "  Once  upon  a  time  a  man  named  Rousseau  \^ 
wrote  a  book  upon  tlie  subject  and  called  it  the '^ -^ 
'  Social  Contract.'     When  it  appeared  the  well- 


XX 


>. 


164  THE   GOSPEL  FOR  THE  POOR. 

to-do  classes  laughed  it  to  scorn.  The  second 
edition  of  it  was  bound  in  their  hides."  It  is 
better  to  show  that  it  is  a  gospel  which  does  not 
contain  in  it  any  hope  for  the  poor.  Its  root 
vice  is  that  it  shuts  its  eyes  to  present  facts.  It 
assumes  that  the  new  society,  when  it  shall  have 
been  adjusted  by  the  professors,  will  be  com- 
posed of  men  whose  natures  will  be  difiFerent  from 
these  we  know  now. 

The  second  gospel,  if  it  may  so  be  called,  is 
the  gospel  of  science.  It  says  that  poverty  is 
inevitable.  In  the  struggle  for  existence  the 
weak  must  go  to  the  wall.  It  is  a  law  of  nature 
that  in  order  that  a  few  favorite  individuals  may 
live  and  develop,  the  great  multitude  of  their 
kind  must  perish  and  decay,  and  become  the  soil 
in  which  the  more  fortunate  ones  iiourish.  This 
may  be  true,  but  it  certainly  is  not  a  gospel. 

-"  Now,  these  two  having  spoken, — the  one  mis- 
chief and  the  other  mockery, — let  us  hear  what 
Jesus  has  to  say.  In  the  first  place,  He  makes 
no  misleading  promises.  He  recognizes  the 
facts  of  the  case.  He  says:  "The  poor  ye 
have  always  with  you."     Poverty  is  permanent. 

;,  It  has  always  been  in  the  world  and  it  always 
will  be.  What  is  desirable  is  to  find  some 
method  to  draw  its  sting,  not  undertake  to 
remove  it  bodily.  That  cannot  be  done.  Christ 
accepts  it  as  a  permanent  fact.  He  builds  upon 
it  and  roots  virtues  in  it.     Patience,  fortitude, 

sympathy,  charity — the   whole  gracious   sister- 


THE  GOSPEL  FOR  THE  POOR.  185 

hood  of  Cliristiiin  graces  presuppose  the  exist- 
ence of  II  necessity  for  their  existence.  His  own 
human  excellence  is  largely  referred  to  this  fact. 
The  existence,  then,  of  this  evil,  and  of  the  ills 
which  spring  from  it,  would  seem  to  have  been 
a  condition  prerequisite  for  His  own  work.  In 
the  second  place,  He  lays  the  total  emphasis/, 
upon  charity.  This  is  the  one  word  about  which 
practical  Christianity  revolves.  In  the  secular 
schemes  for  the  amelioration  of  the  condition  of 
humanity,  the  idea  of  charity  is  as  far  as  possible 
eliminated.  Alms-giving  is  declared  to  be  a 
blunder.  A  charity  organization  society  is  in- 
clined to  teach  that  it  is  better  to  put  a  man 
in  the  way  to  secure  a  cup  of  cold  water  for  him- 
self rather  than  hand  it  to  him.  It  is  better  to 
force  him  to  go  naked,  or  compel  him  to  earn  his 
own  cloak,  rather  than  to  give  him  a  covering  for 
his  nakedness. 

Jesus  saw  much  deeper  into  the  situation  than 
this.  He  saw  that  charity,  when  it  is  charity,  is 
an  action  which  proceeds  from  real  love  for  one's  , 
fellow-man — a  virtue  which  is  twice  blessed,  /- 
"blessing  him  that  gives  as  well  as  him  that 
doth  receive,"  and  therefore  cannot  do  hurt  to 
either. 

But  probably  the  most  inspiring  element  of  His 
Gospel  is  His  revelation  of  the  world  to  come. 
Let  no  poor  man  start  at  this  or  be  repelled. 
Let  him  not  say:  "I  asked  brend,  and  you 
gave  me  a  stone  from   the  streets  of  the  New 


186  THE  GOSPEL  FOR  THE  POOR. 

Jerusalem,"  Jesus'  teaching  is  that  the  ills  of 
this  world  cannot  be  dealt  with  in  any  permanent 
or  satisfactory  way,  if  this  life  be  dealt  with  by 
itself.  Men's  bodies,  as  well  as  their  souls,  are 
bound  not  only  to  the  life  which  now  is,  but  to 
the  life  which  is  to  come. 
*""  Nothing  has  ever  been  so  potent  to  draw  the 
pain  out  of  poverty  as  has  been  the  hope  and 
expectation  of  a  better  life  beyond.  Those  in 
misery  always  believe  the  Creed.  It  is  the  rich 
and  luxurious  men  who  doubt  concerning  the 
life  to  come.  The  poor  and  suffering  always 
believe  in  it  and  look  toward  it.  In  point  of 
fact,  nothing  has  done  so  much  to  alleviate  the 
condition  of  humanity  as  those  two  sentences 
that  fell  from  the  lips  of  the  Master:  "Blessed 
>.  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they  shall  be  com- 
A  forted  ;"  "Come  unto  Me  all  ye  that  labor  and 
are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest."  It  is 
true  that  these  do  not  relieve  physical  ills  or 
provide  for  physical  wants,  but  they  do  better 
than  that — they  enter  into  the  secret  places  of 
the  soul.  They  furnish  hope  and  stimulation, 
and,  having  thus  set  the  soul  of  the  poor  man  at 
peace,  he  is  in  a  better  and  more  willing  mood  to 
co-operate  with  society,  with  science,  and  with 
political  economy  in  bringing  the  outward  con- 
ditions of  life  to  correspond  with  his  inmost 
necessities. 


XXXIV. 

THE  SON  OF  MAN. 
**  Mbo  is  tbis  Son  of  man  ?  "—John  xii.  34. 

One  of  the  fundamental  laws  of  nature  is  tliat~ 
like  begets  like.  That  is  the  law  which  pro- 
hibits hybridity.  It  will  not  allow  confusion 
to  be  introduced  and  carried  very  far  within 
nature.  Crosses  between  living  things  are  only 
possible  when  the  living  things  are  closely  al- 
lied. If  by  accident  a  cross  is  effected  between 
creatures  more  widely  separated,  the  offspring  is  X^ 
incapable  of  reproduction.  This  principle  would 
seem  to  lie  at  the  root  of  Oar  Lord's  habit  of 
speaking  of  Himself  as  the  "  Son  of  Man  "  and 
also  the  "Son  of  God."  The  offspring  of  God 
and  man  must  be  something  which  shares  the 
nature  of  both.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  He 
calls  Himself  habitually  by  these  names.  — 

I  ask  you  to  look  steadily  at  this  fact  until 
it  sinks  into  your  mind,  and,  in  order  that  you 
may  do  so,  to  think  of  a  few  illustrations.  They 
are  not  analogies,  but  they  will  serve  to  convey 
the  same  idea.  For  example,  the  old  title  of  the^w' 
Dauphin  was  "The  Son  of  France."     The  title  A 

187 


XX 


188  THE  SON   OF  MAN. 

"conveyed  the  inii)ression  that  he  was  not  the  son 
alone  of  his  immediate  father,  but  that  he  was  in 
some  sense  the  son  and  embodiment  of  the  whole 
people.  Mr.  Lincoln  has  been  spoken  of  as  the 
"typical  American."  By  that  has  been  meant 
that  he  combined  in  himself  in  a  pre-eminent 
degree  all  those  qualities  which  manifest  them- 
selves ordinarily  in  different  individuals,  but 
which  were  in  him  combined  in  order  to  produce 
the  American.  You  have  seen  the  results  of 
that  odd  discovery  called  composite  photog- 
raphy. An  ingenious  artist  takes  upon  a  sen- 
sitive plate,  one  after  another,  a  dozen  New  Ewg- 
land  manufacturers.  On  the  same  plate  he  super- 
imposes a  dozen  New  England  professional  men  ; 
upon  that  a  dozen  New  England  w^omen,  and  so 
following.  Each  impression  fuses  with  the  im- 
pression which  preceded,  until  the  final  i-esult  is 
the  New  Englander.  The  picture  is  of  no  par- 
ticular person,  but  it  is  something  deeper  and 
more  true  than  would  have  been  the  photograph 
of  any  individual.  Would  it  be  an  idle  fancy  to 
sujjpose  that  if  all  the  features  of  all  the  men 
and  women  of  all  times  and  places  since  the 
world  was,  should  be  superimposed  upon  one 
sensitive  plate  the  result  would  be  a  picture  of 
„the  Son  of  Man  ? 

Whether  it  be  or  no,  this  is  clearly  the  under- 
lying truth  in  all  our  Lord's  thought  about 
Himself.  lie  refers  over  and  over  again  to  His 
humanity  as  the  ground  of  His  deep  and  intelli- 


THE  SON  OF  MAN.  189 

gent  sympathy  for  men,  while  being  at  the  same 
time  the  Son  and  transcript  of  Almighty  Gfod. 
It  is  with  His  humanity  we  have  to  deal  to-day. 
He  was  the  most  humane  of  men.  He  was  the 
most  social  of  men.  It  is  true  that  occasionally 
He  went  apart  by  Himself  into  a  solitary  place 
to  commune  with  His  Fatlier  in  heaven,  but  He 
quickly  returns  to  commune  with  His  brothers. 
He  was  the  most  devoted  of  friends  ;  He 
bound  His  friends  to  Himself.  The  only 
instance  of  anything  like  repining  at  His  own 
lot  was  His  pathetic  lament  that  "the  foxes 
have  holes,  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests," 
while  the  Son  of  Man  has  no  home.  Now,  this 
intelligent  sympathy  with  all  human  necessities 
becomes  the  more  remarkable  when  you  consider  . 
the  narrow  range  of  His  own  actual  experiences.  ^ 
It  was  not  by  passing  through  all  the  experi- 
ences of  human  life  that  He  learned  what  human 
life  is.  For  instance,  He  was  not  a  woman  ;  He 
never  was  a  father,  nor  a  mother  ;  He  was  never 
a  husband,  nor  a  lover,  nor  a  man  of  business,  nor 
a  soldier.  Experimentally  He  was  ignorant  of 
all  the  emotions  and  trials  which  spring  out  of 
these  human  relationships.  Nor  is  it  a  suffi- 
cient answer  to  say  He  knew  all  these  things  V- 
"because  He  was  divine."  It  was  not  because 
He  was  divine.  That  way  of  thinking,  appar- 
ently simple  as  it  is,  is  utterly  unscriptural  and 
em[)ties  the  Incarnation  of  all  its  meaning. 
Being  absolutely  the  Son  of  Man,  in  this  fact  He 


X 


X 


190  THE   SON  OF  MAN. 

rests  His  riglit  to  judge  men,  and  the  apostle 
declares  that  His  judgment  will  be  accurate,  for 
that  it  will  be  based  upon  a  knowledge  of  all  the 
facts. 

I  ask  you  now  to  note  the  bearing  of  this 
truth  ujDon  the  estimate  of  human  nature.  The 
best  sample,  because  the  truest  example,  of 
human  nature  that  has  ever  been  was  Jesus 
Christ.  This  fact  has  been  obscured  by  a  curi- 
ous theological  dogma  which  has  sej)arated  the 
Man  Christ  from  natural  human  nature.  It  has 
vilified  human  nature,  and  has  not  hesitated  to 
declare  that  it  is  totally  depraved.  It  is  hard  to 
say  how  such  a  charge  can  be  brought  against 
human  nature  without  savoring  of  blasphemy. 
Christ  was  not  ashamed  of  His  race.  He  even 
goes  so  far  as  to  attribute  His  qualities  to  the 
nature  which  He  shared  with  all  men.  With  an 
equal  right  to  the  title,  Son  of  God,  He  habitually 
put  it  to  one  side  and  spoke  of  Himself  as  the 
Son  of  Man.  It  would  seem  to  be  that  He  felt 
the  necessity  of  saving  men  from  their  low  opin- 
ions of  themselves.  He  wished  to  lift  them  up 
into  higher  things  by  inspiring  them  in  advance 
with  a  confidence  in  the  possibilities  of  their  own 
nature.  He  identified  Himself  so  completely 
with  men  that  He  takes  as  a  personal  kindness 
the  i^roffer  of  a  cup  of  cold  water  to  the  most 
abj(^ct  of  human  beggars. 

It  may  be  objected,  "If  He  so  completely 
represents  humanity,  why  was  He  not  recognized 


THE  SON  OF  MAN.  191 

by  them  for  what  He  was  ?  Why  was  He  de- 
spised, rejected,  and  driven  out?"  I  reply, 
He  was  not  rejected  by  human  nature;  He  was 
rejected  by  something  which  in  its  very  essence,/" 
is  inhuman.  That  something  is  sin.  The  teach- 
ing of  Scripture  from  beginning  to  end  is  that 
sin  is  not  natural,  but  unnatural.  It  is  not  yr 
part  of  human  nature.  It  can  be  rooted  ouf^ 
without  damaging  the  human  structure.  It  is 
an  abnormal  growth,  a  fungus.  It  has  by  right 
no  place  in  humanity  at  all.  And  this  is 
iiiimanity's  own  judgment  of  the  situation. 
Why  is  it  that  Christendom  has  passed  the  stern 
and  relentless  condemnation  which  it  has  passed 
upon  the  Jews  ?  It  has  condemned  them  because 
it  has  pronounced  them  false  to  their  own  kind. 
Their  offense  was  not  primarily  that  they 
rejected  God,  but  that  they  did  not  know  what 
man  is  when  they  had  an  opportunity  to  see. 
Tiieir  offense  was  against  humanity.  Humanity 
has  visited  upon  the  race  a  vindictive,  and  even 
an  inexcusable,  jjenalty.  But  no  one  should 
mistake  the  reason  for  it. 

The  moral  uplift  of  this  jirinciple  is  unspeak- 
able. What  He  was  we  are  capable  of  becoming. 
The  whole  process  of  practical  Christianity  is 
simply  the  attempt  to  remove  obscurities  from 
the  soul  of  a  natural  man,  to  bring  the  over- 
loaded, and  therefore  helpless,  faculties  of  an 
individual  up  to  "  the  measure  of  the  stature  of 
a  perfect  man  in  Christ."     This  should  be  set 


192  THE  SON   OF  MAN. 

about  intelligently.  Men  in  attemi^ting  to  be 
this,  should  understand  what  they  are  doing. 
"~  Hugh  Miller  observes  somewhere,  that  when  he 
was  working  with  other  stone  cutters  in  a  marble 
yard  he  discerned  a  fundamental  difference 
among  the  workers.  There  were  some  of  them, 
always  poor  workers,  who  approached  the  statue 
within  the  block  by.  mechanical  and  unintelligent 
methods.  There  were  others  who  seemed  to  have 
)(  the  faculty  to  discern  within  the  block  a  statue 
complete  and  symmetrical.  Every  blow  of  the 
hammer  of  such  a  one  was  addressed  simply  to 
clearing  away  the  rough  marble  which  hid  the 
figure.  They  saw  the  statue  within  and  set  about 
to  free  it.  Their  labor  thus  became  economical 
._and  the  result  certain. 

There  is  an  image  of  God  in  every  man. 
When  a  man  "comes  to  himself"  he  shows  him- 
self to  be  a  son  of  God.  In  the  case  of  Jesus  one 
y  sees  a  full  and  complete  personality.  It  was  given 
to  Him  alone  to  hold  fast  with  one  hand  to  the 
Eternal  God,  while  He  laid  the  other  in  bene- 
diction upon  the  fevered  brow  of  men. 


XXXV. 
SOWING  AND   REAPING. 

"  J8c  not  OecetveD ;  (3oD  (0  not  mocf?eJ) :  for  wbatsocver 
a  man  sowetb,  tbat  eball  be  also  reap."— Galatians  vi.  7. 

St.  Paul  here  uses  what  appears  to  be  a  very- 
simple  metaphor  until  one  attempts  to  unfold  it 
and  see  what  it  implies.  He  then  discerns  the 
tremendous  truth  which  it  contains.  Tiiere  is 
nothing  more  familiar  than  the  phenomena  of 
sowing  and  reaping.  The  husbandman  flings  a 
handful  of  grain  upon  the  upturned  soil  and  then 
goes  about  his  business.  The  gardener  dib- 
bles a  hole  and  drops  a  seed  in,  and,  for  the 
present,  that  is  the  end  of  it.  But  both  the 
farmer  and  the  gardener  unconsciously  trust  to 
the  operation  of  two  of  the  most  Avonderfnl  and 
inscrutable  forces  in  nature.  The  first  of  these  is 
that  curious  power  which  lodges  in  nature  her- 
self, which  seizes  hold  upon  the  seed  that  has 
been  intrusted  to  it  and  compels  it  to  grow. 
Nature  receives  the  bare  grain  at  the  hands  of  the 
farmer.  She  does  the  rest  herself.  By  a  curious 
and  secret  method  of  coercion  she  compels  the 
seed  to  unfold  integument  after  integument.  She 
urges  the  little  germ  at  the  center  to  vegetate 
and  sprout.     Her  rains  fall  upon  it,   her  dews 

193 


194  SOWING  AND  REAPING. 

moisten  it,  lier  sun  warms  it,  her  chemical  sup- 
ply feeds  it  with  nourishing  juices.  The  farmer 
assumes  that  nature  will  do  all  this  for  the  seed 
which  he  intrusts  to  her  hands.  He  knows  also 
that  not  a  single  one  of  these  effects  can  he  pro- 
duce himself. 

But  he  submits  the  seed  to  the  ground  also  in 
confidence  of  the  operation  of  another  power  of 
nature,  which,  if  possible,  is  more  inscrutable 
still.  It  is  that  strange  quality  which  lodges  in  a 
little  seed,  by  which  it  has  the  power  to  deter- 
mine what  the  fruit  shall  be,  if  any,  which  comes 
therferom.  The  little  grain  itself  is  insignificant 
as  a  speck  of  dust,  but  it  possesses  in  it  a  power 
of  determination  which  settles  the  question 
finally  whether  the  thing  that  will  grow  from  it 
shall  be  wheat  or  deadly  nightshade.  These  two 
forces  are  those  which  the  sower  takes  for 
granted — the  power  of  nature  to  operate  upon 
the  seed  and  compel  it  to  grow,  the  power  of  the 
seed  itself  to  determine  what  the  fruit  shall  be. 

Now,  St.  Paul  applies  these  physical  facts  to 
moral  things.  He  says  in  effect  that  life — this 
life,  with  its  complex  arrangements  and  forces — 
is  a  great  upturned  field.  Men's  actions,  and 
thoughts,  and  deeds,  and  impulses  are  seeds 
which  they  fling  into  this  field.  When  one  has 
thus  scattered  them  they  have  passed  out  of  his 
hands,  but  they  have  not  passed  away.  They 
have  been  taken  hold  of  by  the  forces  of  the 
moral  universe.     In   each  one  of  them  is  a  dif- 


SOWING  AND  REAPING.  196 

ferentiating  quality  which    determines    the  re- 
sult. 

There  is  nothing  startling  about  all  this,  one 
would  say.  But  let  us  examine  it  a  little  more 
closely.  The  popular  conception  of  the  Gospel^ 
of  Christ  is  that  it  is  an  antidote  to  correct 
a  poison  previously  taken  ;  that  it  is  an  act  of 
oblivion,  of  which  one  may  take  advantage  to 
escape  the  consequences  of  his  previous  faults  ; 
that  it  is  a  device  to  cut  in  between  cause  and 
consequence,  making  it  possible  for  a  man  to 
gather  grapes  when  he  has  planted  the  seed  of 
thorns.  This  is  the  way  Falstaff  thought  of  it. 
He  meditates  in  one  of  his  moralizing  moods  : 
"'Tis  time  to  quit  fighting  o'  days,  foining  o' 
nights,  and  begin  to  patch  up  my  old  body  for 
heaven."  Dame  Quickly  had  the  same  notion. /"^/^ 
When  the  fat  old  knight  lay  dying,  the  hostess 
says  that  "he  babbled  o'  green  fields  and  said 
God,  God,  God,  three  or  four  times,  whereupon  I, 
to  comfort  him,  bade  him  he  should  not  think 
upon  God ;  that  there  was  no  need  for  such 
thoughts  yet."  One  has  a  feeling  of  shock 
when  he  hears  the  great  ajDOstle  state  in  such 
bald  fashion  that  not  even  the  Gospel  of  Christ 
provides  a  power  to  exempt  any  man  from  reap- 
ing what  he  has  sown.  Nevertheless  St.  Paul  is 
right.  It  was  not  the  purpose  of  God  in  Christ 
either  to  reverse  or  suspend  the  elemental  laws 
of  his  universe.  But  it  must  be  admitted  that 
the  presence  of  a  saying  like  our  text,  appears  to 


X 


196  SOWING  AND  REAPING. 

introduce  a  false  note  into  tlie  harmony  of  the 
Gospel  of  grace.  There  can  be  no  question,  how- 
ever, of  the  fact.  "Ye  shall  know  them  by 
their  fruits,"  the  Master  says.  "Ye  cannot 
gather  grapes  of  thorns  or  tigs  of  thistles."  You 
will  observe  he  appeals  to  a  necessity.  He  does 
not  make  any  arbitrary  enactment.  He  simply 
announces  in  his  quiet  and  awful  fashion  that 
things  are  as  they  are. 

Now,  in  the  lower  areas  of  life,  one  can  see 
that  this  law  is  universal.  It  could  only  be  in  a 
world  like  Alice's  Wonderland  that  one  could 
expect  to  reap  anything  except  that  whicli  he 
had  sown.  We  depend  upon  this  principle  of 
uniformity  in  nature.  We  build  all  our  plans 
upon  it.  If  caprice  were  allowed  to  enter  at  any 
point,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  physical  and  mental 
life  would  be  impossible.  St.  Paul  says  that  the 
same  thing  is  true  in  the  sp>iritual  area.  In  the 
human  soul  a  seed  of  evil  suggestion  or  of  good 
is  seized  upon  by  the  forces  of  the  soil  itself,  is 
compelled  to  unfold  until  it  produces  fruit  after 
its  kind. 

Of  course  my  purpose  is  not  to  discourage  any 
attempt  at  good  or  to  fix  one  in  any  closed 
circle  of  fate.  I  want  to  point  out  what  Jesus 
really  did  contribute  to  the  situation.  The  first 
thing  is  His  revelation,  that  the  universe  itself  is 
on  the  side  of  the  good  seed  and  not  on  the  side 
of  the  bad.  Things  are  so  constituted  that  it  is 
more  natural  for  good  to  bear  fruit  than  for  evil 


SOWING  AND  REAPING.  197 

to  do  tlie  same.     The  ultimate  penalty  of  evil  is 
barrenness.     Good   is   fecund.     We  all  see  the 
world  slowl}^  and  intermittently,  but  all  the  same 
surely,  growing  better.     It  does  so  because  it  is 
natural  for  it  to  grow  better,  and  it  is  unnatural 
for  it  to  grow  worse.     You  have  observed,  I  dare 
say,  that  no   man  ever  becomes  bad  suddenly, 
while  on  the  contrary,  if  a  bad  man  becomes  good, 
it  is  always  effected  quickly.     I  do  not  mean  to 
say,  of  course,  that  there  is  possible  any  instan- 
taneous or  magical  process  whicli  will  change  a 
bad  man  into  a  good  one,  but  that  this  change  is 
always  more  quickly  done  than  the  reverse  proc- 
ess.    Take  the  case,  for  example,  of  a  man  fallen 
into  the  vice  of  drunkenness,  and  recovering  there- 
from.    He  never  becomes  a  drunkard  in  a  day. 
He  goes  down,  little  by  little,  step  by  step,  and 
slowly.     If  he  ever  recovers,  however,  it  is  not 
by  reti-acing  his  downward  steps  one  by  one.     It 
is  by  means  of  one  supreme  resolution  by  which 
he  recovers  almost  at  once  all  the  ground  that  he 
had  lost.     One  cannot  reform  slowly.     He  either 
does  it  quickly,  or  he  does  not  do  it  at  all.     Nor " 
does  he  become  bad  instantaneously.    Says  Beau- 
mont in  the  old  play  :  "There  is  a  method  in 
men's  wickedness  ;  it  groAvs  by  degrees.     I  am 
not  yet  come  so  high  as  the  killing  of  myself. 
There  are  a  hundred  thousand  sins  'twixt   me 
and  that  which  I  must  do.     But  I  shall  come 
to  it— I  shall  come  to  it." 
It  is  this  principle  also  which  explains  the  ter- 


X  y 


198  SOWING  AND   REAPING. 

-  rible  curse  which  our  Lord  launches  at  the  heads 
of  those  who  would  wantonly  or  maliciously  up- 
root the  beginnings  of  good.  "  Whoso  offendeth 
one  of  these  little  ones,  it  were  better  for  him  that 
a  millstone  were  tied  about  his  neck  and  that  he 
were  cast  into  the  depths  of  the  sea."  Jesus 
classes  this  offense  against  feeble  virtue  or 
against  halting  faith  with  such  crimes  as  mur- 
dering children  or  poisoning  wells.       The  little 

V  one  is  not  intrinsically  of  such  great  value,  but 
'^\  he  is  the  seed  out  of  which  great  things  may 
grow.  One  sometimes  speaks  lightly  of  "  sowing 
wild  oats."  If  sowing  such  seed  was  flinging  it 
away  finally,  one  might  speak  of  it  in  a  jest,  but 
when  he  remembers  that  the  moral  universe  is 
watching  to  seize  upon  that  scattered  grain,  and 
that  it  will  not  permit  a  single  kernel  of  it  to  be 
lost,  that  it  will  cause  it  nil  to  bear  fruit,  and 
that  it  will  compel  the  sower  to  reap  it  when 
the  time  comes,  then  he  will  not  speak  or  think 

__of  it  lightly. 

We  see  thus  that  St.  Paul  uncovers  one  of  the 
most  eternal  and  most  awful  truths  in  the  whole 
universe  of  God.  Jesus  states  the  final  issue. 
The  reapers  are  the  angels.  The  seed  is  thoughts 
and  deeds.  The  universe  compels  them  to  grow 
and  ripen.  When  the  time  comes  the  harvest 
will  be.  Some  will  be  gathered  into  garners, 
some  will  be  gathered  into  bundles  to  be  burned, 
to  be  burned  not  so  much  because  they  are 
noxious,  as  because  they  are  useless. 


XXXVI. 

THE  PROOF. 

**3for  so  10  tbe  will  of  ©oD,  tbat  witb  well^Dofng  ge 
mai?  put  to  silence  tbe   Ignorance  of  foolisb  men."— 

1  Peter  ii.  15. 

TriE  prime  purpose  of  Christianity  is  to  make 
men  good.  It  has  other  incidental  aims,  but 
this  is  tlie  chief  one.  By  making  them  good  it 
sometimes  makes  them  happy,  though  not 
always.  It  may  do  this  or  it  may  not.  That 
depends  upon  circumstances.  It  may  fail  of  this 
secondary  purpose  in  any  instance,  and  still  not 
be  open  to  the  cliarge  of  having  failed  intrinsi- 
cally. But  if  it  should  fail  in  its  main  purpose, 
nothing  could  save  its  repute.  If  it  does  not 
manifest  itself  in  the  world  as  a  power  for  right- 
eousness, it  cannot  vindicate  its  right  to  be  in  the 
world  at  all.  The  apostle  recognizes  this  and 
states  it  in  a  very  bold  fashion.  He  points  to  it 
as  the  evidence  of  its  divinity.  He  says  the 
proof  of  tlie  divine  quality  of  the  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ  is  that  it  actually  makes  men  better. 

Now,  it  must  be  confessed  that  this  is  not  the 
ordinary  line  of  evidence  for  the  divinity  of 
Christ  or  His  Gospel.     There  are  two  other  lines 

199 


X 


200  THE  PROOF. 

of  argument  which  are  almost  invariably  relied 
upon.  The  first  is  the  a  priori  reasonableness 
of  the  revelation.  It  points  to  the  fact  that  it  is 
likely  that  God  would  at  some  point  in  history 
break  the  silence  of  the  ages  and  reveal  himself 
to  men.  Then  it  calls  attention  to  the  words 
and  work  of  Jesus,  and  declares  that  they  corre- 
spond so  completely  with  what  man  might  ex- 
pect from  God  that  they  are  compelled  to  believe 
that  they  are  the  revelation  of  God.  It  insists 
tliat  He  fulfills  all  the  conditions  and  tests  of 
divinity,  and  that  therefore  He  can  be  proved  to 
be  divine  before  the  bar  of  the  understanding. 
This  is,  in  rough,  the  first  and  most  common 
path  of  evidential  reasoning. 

The  second  is  an  appeal  to  the  outward  facts  of 
history.  It  points  to  the  extent  and  potency  of 
the  visible  Church.  It  walks  around  about  its 
walls  and  views  the  towers  thereof.  It  says, 
"Behold,  what  goodly  stones  are  these."  It 
points  to  the  millions  of  members,  to  the  artistic 
beauty  of  its  fabric,  to  its  power  in  law  and  in 
society.  It  says,  "Look,  there  is  Christianity. 
1 1  has  conquered  a  place  for  itself.  It  proves  its 
divinity  by  its  bigness."  Now,  both  of  these 
lines  of  argument  are  very  valuable  for  certain 
purposes,  but  neither  of  them  prove  the  existence 
of  any  divine  quality  in  Christ.  One  of  them  is 
a  purely  intellectual  structure,  the  other  is  an 
nppeal  to  what  is  called  common  sense.  Both  of 
these  remain  within  the  circle  of  natural  things, 


THE  PROOF.  201 

and  cannot  escape  from  it  to  God.  Whole  libra- 
ries of  apologetics  might  survive  even  after  the 
world  had  discovered  that  Christianity  was  but  a 
natural  religion.  The  ecclesiastical  empire  might 
be  perfect,  and  yet  Christianity  fail  utterly. 

Christ  has  rested  the  evidence  of  His  religion^ 
upon   the  conduct  of   His   followers.     "Ye  are 
living  epistles,   known  and   read   of  all   men." 
The  quality  of  the  religion  which  you  profess 
will  be  judged  ultimately  by  what  men  read  in 
you.     "Ye  are  the  salt  of  the  earth,  but  if  the 
salt  have  lost  its  savor,  wherewithal  shall  it  bex 
salted?     It  is  thenceforth  good  for  nothing  butxA 
to  be  cast  out  and  to  be  trodden  under  foot  of 
men."     "Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world.     A  city 
that  is  set  on  a  hill  cannot  be  hid."     "  Let  your 
light   so  shine  before  men   that  they  may  see 

your  good  works  and  glorify  your  Father,  which 

is  in  Heaven." 

Now,  the  practical  question  arises,  Is  this  kind 
of  proof  forthcoming?  Are  those  who  profess 
and  call  themselves  Christians  really  better  than 
the  average  of  humanity?  Are  they  so  much 
better  that  the  world  is  justified  in  attributing 
their  goodness  to  a  divine  source?  Christians 
themselves  shrink  from  being  put  in  this  posi-  \ 
tion.  A  sort  of  artificial  modesty  leads  them  to 
decline  the  obligation  which  their  Master  laid 
upon  them.  They  would  prefer  that  Christi- 
anity should  not  be  judged  by  their  conduct. 
But  there  is  no  escape.     The  Christian  must  be- 


X 


202  THE  PROOF. 

better  than  other  men.     If   he  be  not  better, 
Christianity  breaks  down. 
It  is  true,  however,  that  both  the  Church  and 

jVthe  world  hesitate  to  move  along  this  line  of 
evidence.  The  secularist  denies  it  utterly.  He 
declares  that  goodness  has  a  basis  of  its  own. 
That  its  roots  can  be  found  in  the  conditions 
of  human  existence.  That  divine  forces  from 
outside  are  not  needed  to  bring  men  into  good- 
ness. There  is  a  mischievous  movement  in  cer- 
tain circles  toward  rehabilitating  paganism.  It 
would  substitute  the  light  of  Asia  for  the  Son  of 
Righteousness.     It  would  put  Sakyi  Mouni  for 

V  Moses.  It  would  substitute  Guatama  for  Christ. 
What  will  serve  to  stem  this  mischievous  cur- 
rent ?  Argument  will  not  do  it.  The  men  who 
are  driven  in  this  current  are  either  not  open  to 
argument  or  they  are  better  arguers  than  are  the 
Christians.  The  only  evidence  for  Christ  is 
Christians.  They  can  stem  and  turn  back  this 
dangerous  movement  only  by  the  purity,  the 
kindliness,  the  divinity  of  their  own  lives.   When 

\    they   do  this,  and  if  they  do  this,  they  will   be 

^  \able  to  show  not  only  the  folly,  but  the  danger, 

--of  the  tendency  of  which  I  have  spoken.     Mr. 

Russell  Lowell  has  said:   "I  fear  that  when  we 

indulge   ourselves   in    the   amusement   of  going 

y)\  without  a  religion,  we  are  not  perhaps  aware  how 
much  we  are  sustained  at  present  by  an  enormous 
mass  all  about  us  of  religious  feeling  and  relig- 
ious conviction,  so  tliat  whatever  it  may  be  safe 


THE  PROOF.  203 

for  US  to  think,  for-iis  who  have  liad  great  advaii-~ 
tages  and  have  been  brouglit  up  in  such  a  way 
that  a  certain  moral  direction  has  been  given  to 
our  character,  I  do  not  know  what  would  become 
of  the  less  favored  classes  of  mankind  if  they 
undertook  to  play  the  same  game.  Whatevei* 
defects  and  imperfections  may  attach  to  a  few 
points  of  the  doctrinal  system  of  Christianity,  ii 
is  infinitely  preferable  to  any  form  of  polite  and 
polished  skepticism  which  gathers  as  its  votaries 
the  degenerate  sons  of  heroic  ancestors,  who, 
having  been  trained  in  a  society  and  educated 
in  schools,  the  foundations  of  which  were  laid  by 
men  of  faith  and  piety,  now  turn  and  kick  down 
the  ladder  by  which  they  have  climbed  up,  and 
persuade  men  to  live  without  God,  and  leave 
them  to  die  without  hope.  The  worst  kind  of 
religion  is  no  religion  at  all,  and  these  men  who 
indulge  themselves  in  the  amusement  of  going 
without  a  religion,  may  be  thankful  that  they 
live  in  lands  where  the  Gospel  they  neglect  has 
tamed  the  beastliness  and  ferocity  of  the  men, 
who,  but  for  Christianity,  might  long  ago  have 
eaten  their  carcasses,  like  the  South  Sea  Island- 
ers, or  cut  off  their  heads  and  tanned  their  hides, 
like  the  monsters  of  the  French  Revolution. 
When  the  microscopic  search  of  skepticism, 
which  has  hunted  the  heavens  and  sounded  the 
seas,  shall  have  turned  its  attention  to  human 
society,  and  found  a  place  on  this  planet  ten 
miles  square  where  a  decent  man  can  live  in  de-_ 


204  THE  PROOF. 

""cency  and  comfort  and  security,  supporting  and 
educating  his  children  unspoiled  and  unpolluted, 
a  x^lace  where  age  is  reverenced,  infancy  respected, 
manhood  respected,  wonmnhood  honored,  and  hu- 
man life  held  in  due  regard — when  skeptics  can 
find  such  a  place  ten  miles  square  on  this  globe, 
where  the  Gospel  of  Christ  has  not  gone  before 
and  cleared  the  way  and  laid  the  foundations 
V'and  made  decency  and  security  possible,  it  will 
then  be  in  order  for  them  to  ventilate  their  views. 
But  so  long  as  they  are  dependent  upon  the  re- 
ligion which  they  criticise  for  every  privilege 
which  they  enjo}^,  they  may  well  hesitate  a  little 
before  they  seek  to  rob  the  Christian  of  his  hope, 
and  humanity  of  its  faith,  in  that  Saviour  who 
alone  has  given  to  men  all  that  makes  life  toler- 

able  and  society  possible." 


XXXVII. 
HIS  RELIGION  TO  BE  UNIVERSAL. 
"  iBvev  learning  anD  never  able  to  come  to  tbe  knowl* 

eOge  of  tbe  trutb."— 3  Timothy  iii.  7. 

It  is  quite  clear  that  Jesus  intended  his  relig- 
ion to  be  universal.  In  the  programme  whicli  He 
announced  and  reiterated  more  than  once,  He 
looked  forward  to  a  time  when  all  men  would 
be  familiar  with  His  Gospel,  and  would  govern 
their  lives  according  to  its  principles.  Nearly 
twenty  centuries  have  passed  away,  and  His  ex- 
pectation does  not  seem  to  have  been  realized. 
Less  than  one-third  of  the  human  race  at  this 
moment  is  even  nominally  Christian.  Of  that 
third  it  would  probably  be  exaggeration  to 
allege  that  more  than  one-third  are,  in  any  sense, 
governed  and  restrained  by  the  thought  of  the 
Master.  The  problem  is  most  difficult.  One 
who  looks  steadfastly  at  the  facts  of  the  case 
will  be  surprised  and  saddened  to  discover  that 
there  is,  even  at  this  moment,  the  greatest 
possible  perplexity  as  to  what  the  truth  of  Christ 
actually  is.  Men  have  been  learning  it  for  nine- 
teen centuries,  and  they  do  not  seem  to  have  yet 
attained  to  anything  like  a  precise  or  scientific 

S05 


206  HIS  RELIGION  TO  BE  UNIVERSAL. 

notion  of  its  contents.  This  lack  of  knowledge 
cannot  be  referred  to  lack  of  interest  or  atten- 
tion or  time  exjDended.  There  is  no  one  sub- 
ject, probably,  at  this  moment,  upon  which  so 
much  thought  is  expended  to  understand,  and  so 
much  time,  money,  and  labor  expended  in  its 
diffusion,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Gospel  of  Jesus 
Christ.  In  the  United  States  alone  there  are 
something  like  seventy-five  thousand  professional 
teachers  of  Christianity.  They  devote  practically 
their  whole  time  to  this,  and  to  nothing  else. 
They  are  set  apart  for  that  express  purpose,  and 
are  maintained  at  the  cost  of  the  Christian  com- 
munity for  the  discharge  of  this  purpose.  There 
are  something  like  seven  hundred  of  them  in 
this  city  alone.  Over  and  above  this  is  an  in- 
calculable mass  of  books,  newspaj)ers,  tracts, 
and  literature  of  various  sorts,  to  the  same  end. 
The  purpose  of  all  this  is  to  make  the  truth  of 
Christ  known  to  a  generation  which  is  "ever 
learning,"  and,  somehow,  is  "never  able  to  come 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  truth." 

Now,  what  will  explain  this  paradox  ?  On  the 
one  side  is  the  alleged  simplicity  of  the  Gospel  ; 
on  the  other  hand  is  this  enormously  complex 
machinery  for  its  teaching  and  diffusion  ;  and  the 
outcome  of  both  these  is  widespread  ignorance 
and  uncertainty  as  to  what  is  the  actual  content 
of  the  faith.  It  causes  one  to  ask,  Is  the  truth 
itself  simple,  or  is  it  so  obscure  and  complex 
and  profound,  that  the  average  man  must,  in 


HIS  RELIGION  TO  BE  UNIVERSAL.  207 

spite  of  all  his  effort  and  study,  fail  in  apprehend- 
ing it  ?  This  has  been  alleged  very  frequently. 
It  is  clear,  however,  that  those  men  who  first 
heard  Him  did  not  regard  His  truth  as  difficult 
to  apprehend.  He  announced  it  to  the  common 
people,  and  they  heard  Him  gladly.  They  would 
not  have  heard  Him  gladly  if  they  had  not  heard 
Him  intelligently.  If  men  heard  the  same  mes- 
sage intelligently  to-day,  they  would,  no  doubt, 
receive  it  with  at  least  something  of  the  same 
gladness.  Is  there  anything,  then,  that  will 
account  for  the  widespread  vagueness  of  concep- 
tion in  this  matter,  in  sx)ite  of  such  effective 
machinery  for  teaching  ?  I  think  it  may  be 
accounted  for. 

It  is  evident  that  the  first  cause  of  perplexity \. 
is  our  unhappy  divisions.  So  long  as  the  Chris-' 
tian  Church  remains  divided  as  it  is  to-day,  each 
sect  of  which  teaches  its  portion  of  the  truth  as 
fundamental,  and  so  long  as  there  is  such  wide 
disagreement  as  there  is  to-day  among  them  as  to 
what  is  fundamental  and  what  is  not,  it  is  quite 
plain  that  the  world  in  which  the  Church  lives 
will  remain  puzzled  and  indifferent  and  likely  to 
become  exasperated.  One  condition  absolutely 
prerequisite  for  the  world's  coming  to  a  knowl- 
edge of  the  truth,  is  that  the  Church  shall  first  ' 
agree  as  to  what  the  truth  is.' 

In  the  second   place,  the  confusion   has  been 
and  is  due  largely  to  that  unfortunate  habit  that^^' 
the  Church  fell  into  almost  from  the  beginning, 


208  HIS  RELIGION  TO  BE  UNIVERSAL. 

~  of  overlaying  truth  with  doctrines.  The  result 
has  been  that  the  Catholic  Faith  has  been  buried 
almost  out  of  sight  by  the  superincumbent  mass 
of  interpretations  and  creeds.  The  Scripture 
has  been  obscured  by  the  mountain  of  commen- 
taries built  up  before,  behind,  and  round  about 
it.  The  primary  truths  of  the  Gospel  have 
been  hidden  from  view  by  secondary  and  trivial 

.  dogmas. 

But  the  third  and  the  best  explanation  is  quite 
a  different  and  more  fundamental  one.  Every 
department  of  knowledge  has  its  own  methods. 
The  method  of  study  in  one  is  utterly  futile 
when  ai)plied  to  another.  For  example,  one 
learns  the  truths  of  geography  upon  testimony 
of  eye-witnesses,  travelers,  explorers,  and  sur- 
veyors. One  learns  the  truths  of  mathematics  by 
actually  reproducing  in  his  own  mind  the  logical 
steps  and  stages  through  which  the  truths  are 
attained.  No  one  is  foolish  enough  to  try  to 
learn  mathematics  by  testimony,  or  to  learn  the 
facts  about  an  unexplored  country  by  mathe- 
matics. Each  method  fits  in  its  own  sphere  and 
refuses  to  work  when  it  is  transferred  to  another 
kind  of  truth.     Now,  the  reiterated  teaching  of 

.  Christ  is  that  spiritual  truth  is  attained  by  moral 
^  processes,  and  not  by  intellectual  ones.  It  is  not 
the  philosopher,  but  the  pure  in  heart,  that  shall 
see  God.  It  is  not  he  who  formulates  doctrines, 
but  he  who  wills  to  do  the  will  of  Christ,  who  learns 
of  His  doctrine  whether  it  be  of  God.    He  declares 


HIS  RELIGION  TO  BE   UNIVERSAL.  209 

that  if  the  trutli  of  His  Gospel  be  liidden  from 
any,  it  is  from  tliose  who  are  morally  astray. 
But  why  should  purity  of  soul  rather  than 
mental  grasp  be  the  tool  or  instrument  by  which 
one  uncovers  the  truth  of  Christ  ?  I  am  not  sure 
that  I  can  say  why.  I  fancy  that  here  we  come 
upon  an  original  fact  for  which  there  is  no  ex- 
planation. It  is  difficult,  I  confess,  to  see  the 
explanation  of  the  fact,  but  that  it  is  a  fact  there 
can  be  no  question.  The  miser,  for  instance,  is 
always  an  atheist.  It  is  difficult  to  see  why  liv- 
ing in  lust  should  lead  a  man  to  doubt  or  disbe- 
lieve the  truth  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body  ;  X 
that  it  does  do  so  no  one  who  has  ever  had  an 
opportunity  to  see  intimately  the  actual  interior 
lives  of  men  will  doubt.  Why  it  should  be  that 
a  selfish  man,  who  disregards  the  well-being  of 
his  fellows,  should  be  unable  to  see  the  meaning 
of  the  sacraments  of  Christ's  Church  is  difficult 
to  explain  ;  but  this  again  is  true,  as  every  priest 
and  pastor  knows.  I  think  it  would  be  possible 
to  assign  a  psychological  explanation  of  these 
facts,  but  it  is  sufficient  for  the  present  purpose 
to  remind  you  that  they  are  facts. 

Now,  Jesus  does  not  expect  that  His  truth  will 
be  seen  by  any  except  those  who  are  antecedently 
more  or  less  in  sympathy  with  His  character.  It 
is  by  becoming  good  that  one  comes  ta  see  the 
divinity  of  the  Son  of  Man.  This  process  cannot 
be  reversed,  for  it  will  not  operate  the  other  way. 
The  world,  in  so  far  as  it  has  come  to  understand 


210  HIS  RELIGION   TO  BE  UNIVERSAL. 

the  truth  of  the  Master,  has  accepted  this  funda- 
mental doctrine,  and  accepted  it  gratefnlly.  The 
reason  of  its  gratitude  is  that  this  method  of 
reaching  the  truth  places  all  men  on  a  common 
vantage  ground.  The  cobbler  may  have  clearer 
moral  insight  than  the  philosopher,  or  the  states- 
man may  be  spiritually  more  strenuous  than  tiie 
day  laborer.  The  possession  of  moral  capacity 
would  seem  to  be  practically  independent  of  all 
social  position,  of  wealth,  of  learning,  or  even  of 
knowledge.  Jesus  appeals  to  that  quality  in 
man  which  is  the  one  quality  in  the  possession 
of  which  all  men  stand  upon  a  common  level. 
He  asks  them  to  learn  of  Him,  and  He  evidently 
expects  that  only  those  will  come  to  His  school 
who  have  some  realization  of  the  value  of  the 
lore  which  He  teaches. 


XXXVIII. 
THE  EXPRESSION  OF  RELIGION. 
"  G:berc  is  no  spcecb  nor  language,  wbere  tbelr  voice  ie 

not  bcarD."— Psalm  xix.  3. 

The  essence  of  religion  is  intercourse  with  God.\>^ 
It  is  not  the  holding  of  a  correct  theology.  One 
may  be  faultless  in  his  creed,  and  still  be  pro- 
foundly irreligious.  It  is  not  a  faultless  mo->^ 
rality.  One  may  be  as  moral  as  a  Pharisee,  and 
still  have  no  conception  of  what  religion  really 
is.  It  is  communion  with  God.  It  is  inter- 
change of  affection  between  the  great  Father 
and  one  of  his  children.  Its  lowest  form  is 
prayer,  in  the  usual  acceptation  of  that  word. 
By  that,  I  mean  the  asking  favors  of  God. 
This  is  probably  the  lowest  and  most  rudimen- 
tary form  that  religion  can  take.  It  corresponds 
with  the  cry  of  a  child  to  its  earthly  parents 
for  food.  When  it  ceases  to  be  a  child,  it 
does  not  ask  favors,  but  becomes  a  companion 
of  its  father.  The  highest  form  of  religion  at- 
tainable, or  which  has  yet  been  attained,  is  some- 
thing like  obsession.  One  is  ' '  possessed  "of  God 
so  that,  like  St.  Paul,  his  own  identity  >^"comes 

211 


212  THE  EXPRESSION   OF   RELIGION. 

uncertain.     He   is   not   quite  sure  whether  it  is 
himself  or  "  Christ  that  dwelleth  in  him." 

This  interchange  of  affection  and  intelligence 
between  the  Father  in  heaven  and  the  child  on 
earth  can  be  expressed  in  language.  Its  forms 
of  expression  constitute  the  most  widely  diffused 
and  constant  form  of  speech  that  exists  among 
humanity.  Every  generation  has  stammered 
prayers  to  God,  and  has,  at  least,  believed  that 
it  has  heard  responsive  voices  from  the  abyss. 
Day  unto  day,  says  the  Psalmist — that  is,  every 
day  and  all  days  utter  this  speech,  and  al] 
nights  manifest  this  knowledge.  Religion  ther 
has  a  language  of  its  own.  I  wish  to  speak 
briefly  concerning  this  language. 
To  begin  with,   it  must,  in  the  nature  of  the 

\  case,  follow  the  general  laws  of  all  human 
speech.  The  language  of  religion  does  not  cease 
to  be  liuman  because  it  tries  to  express  divine 
things.     I  ask   you  then  to  note   three  or  four 

V    things  about  human  speech.     The  first  is  that  it 

A  has  its  origin  in  dim,  unconscious  sensation. 
Watch  a  little  child.  Its  cries  and  broken 
sounds  and  inarticulate  utterances  are  its  efforts 
to  express  hunger,  discomfort,  or  affection.  The 
lower  animals  never  get  beyond  this  stage. 
Their  speech  is  very  meager,  and  springs  directly 

,  from  sensitive  emotion.  In  the  second  place 
human  speecli  is  always  progressive.  No  lan- 
guage is  ever  finished.  New  words,  new  forms, 
and  new  phrases  are  constantly  coming  into  the 


THE   EXPRESSION  OF  RELIGION.  213 

language,  and  old  ones  are  becoming  obsolete 
and  dropping  out.  The  dictionary  of  a  tongue 
must  be  revised  at  least  once  in  every  genera- 
tion. The  language  will  not  stay  put.  It  grows 
at  one  end  and  decays  at  the  other.  In  the  tliirdw 
place  human  speech  is  always  more  or  less  in- 
accurate. Probably  no  two  persons  ever  mean 
precisely  the  same  thing  by  the  same  word. 
Two  jDeople  read  the  same  poem,  the  same  de- 
scription, the  same  argument,  and  while  the 
general  effect  produced  upon  them  is  identical, 
still  the  impressions  they  receive  are  not  by 
any  means  the  same.  In  the  fourth  place  lan- 
guage always  breaks  down  in  the  presence  of^^ 
those  iprofound  and  tremendous  emotions  and 
experiences  which  come  to  all  men.  Such  a 
phrase  as  "  I  have  no  words  in  which  to  tell  it," 
is  a  scientifically  accurate  expression.  It  refers 
to  some  experience  or  fact  which  is  a  real  ex- 
perience or  fact,  but  which  words  are  incapable 
of  expressing.  At  such  times  one  abandons  his 
formulated  speech  and  becomes  exclamatory. 
In  the  presence  of  sudden  and  dire  peril  one 
utters  but  a  cry.  When  one  stands  upon  a  ■ 
mountain  top,  and  his  soul  dilates  as  his  eye 
travels  over  the  beautiful  world,  he  is  either 
silent,  or  he  exclaims — but  he  does  not  tnlk. 
The  lover  is  dumb  before  his  mistress.  Every 
man  is  dumb  when  he  faces  deathj. 

Now,  it  is  not  mere  fancy  to  apply  all  these 
facts  to  the  language  of  religion.     Its  purpose  is 


214  THE   EXPRESSION  OF  RELIGION. 

to  express  the  facts  of  the  actual  communion 
with  divine  things.  It  is  a  faculty  which  probably 
every  hiunan  being  possesses,  at  least  in  a  rudi- 
mentary form.  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind 
that,  to  begin  with,  it  is  only  a  capacity,  and  may 
remain  that  alone.  \  Still,  one  feels  surprise  in 
hearing  Dr.  Johnson  say  that  the  near  approach 
Xof  death  does  not  make  every  man  religious, 
"  Sir,"  said  the  Doctor,  "  they  do  not  know  how 
to  set  about  it."i  This  is  literally  true.  The 
emotions  of  religion  are  probably  felt  from  time 
to  time  by  all,  but  its  language  must  be  learned. 
It  seems  amazing  that  parents  will  take  the  pains 
to  teach  their  children  to  speak  in  every  tongue 
except  that  by  which  one  speaks  to  God.  Not  a 
few  shrink  not  only  from  the  language  itself, 
but  from  tlie  things  which  such  a  speech  implies. 
The  gross  and  earthly  Dame  QuicJcly  describing 
the  death  of  Falstaff  says:  "After  I  saw  him 
fumble  with  the  sheets,  and  play  with  flowers, 
and  smile  upon  his  fingers'  ends,  I  knew  there 
was  but  one  way  ;  for  his  nose  was  as  sharp  as  a 
pen,  and  'a  babbled  of  green  fields.  'How  now, 
Sir  John  ! '  quoth  I !  '  what,  man  :  be  o'  good 
cheer.'  So,  'a  called  out '  God,  God,  God  ! '  three 
or  four  times.  Now  I,  to  comfort  him,  bid  him  'a 
should  not  think  of  God  ;  I  hoped  there  was  no 
need  to  trouble  himself  with  such  thoughts  yet  ; 
so  'a  bade  me  lay  more  clothes  on  his  feet." 
The  roistering  old  knight,  whose  great  humanity 
appeals  to  so  many,  knew  no  words  in  which  to 


THE  EXPRESSION  OF  RELIGION.  215 

express  the  deepest  emotion  of  his  soul,  and 
coukl  but  break  into  a  cry.  Old  Dame  Quickly 
could  not  even  do  that  much.  She  was  utterly 
dumb. 

It  is  also  true  that  when  one  begins  to  reach 
up  to  divine  things  his  speech  is  uncertain  and 
his  vocabulary  scant.  Reasonable  religion  is 
justly  impatient  of  elaborate  confessions  and  longX 
drawn  out  articles  of  religion.  It  is  doubly  im- 
patient of  such  statements  when  they  have  been 
made  so  many  years  ago,  that  the  change  which 
always  goes  forward  in  human  speech  has  rendered 
them  inaccurate  through  sheer  lapse  of  time.  It 
is  equally  impatient  when  it  hears  too  voluble 
statements  of  religious  exjDeriences.  One  is  skep- 
tical when  listening  to  the  man  who  describes  too 
vividly  and  too  much  in  detail  his  intercourse 
with  God,  just  as  one  is  suspicious  of  the  real 
affection  of  the  lover  who  can  express  his  love  in 
finely  turned  phrases.  It  cannot  be  denied,  how- 
ever,that  there  are  some  who  can  neither  speak  nor 
hear  this  language,  more  is  the  pity.  They  have 
either  never  known  it,  or  they  have  lived  for  so 
long  in  surroundings  where  it  is  not  spoken  that 
they  have  ceased  to  understand  it.  One  at  least 
of  the  primary  reasons  for  the  Church  is  that  it 
may  bring  individuals  into  a  community  where 
religion  is  spoken  of  and  thought  of,  so  that  their 
religious  faculties  may  develop)  through  dint  of 
use  and  practice. 

It  is  doubtful,  indeed,  whether  any  man  canX 


216  THE  EXPRESSION  OF  RELIGION. 

retain  liis  religion  by  himself.  A  life  of  absolute 
A  X  solitude  effaces  in  the  individual  the  capacity  to 
speak.  The  declaration  of  Scripture  is  that  day 
and  night  are  full  of  the  voices  of  God.  But 
some  honest  effort  must  be  made  by  anyone  who 
would  catch  the  sound  thereof,  and  understand 
their  import.  It  is  not  enough  that  one  should 
simply  know  the  doctrines,  the  facts  of  Christi- 
anity. The  creeds,  the  systems,  the  dogmas,  the 
rituals  of  the  Church,  are  like  the  dry  musical 
scales  of  an  oratorio.  They  must  be  clothed  in 
sound  and  interpreted  in  music  before  they  move 
the  emotions  or  appeal  to  the  understanding. 
Whoever  strenuously  bends  his  ear  to  listen  for 
the  sweet  music  of  God  in  human  life  will  hear 
it,  and  will  be  able  to  say  with  truth  "  It  is  not 
the  voice  of  them  that  shout  for  mastery,  nor  the 
voic»  of  them  that  cry  for  being  overcome,  but 
the  sound  of  singing  that  I  hear ! " 


XXXIX. 

CONCERNING  THE  CHURCH. 

"  tTbe  Disciples  came,  anD  saiD  unto  blm,  Tuab^  speaf^est 
tbou  unto  tbeni  in  parables  ?  1f3e  answcreC*  nn(?  saiD  unto 
tbem,  :n3ccau5c  it  is  given  unto  ^ou  to  l^now  tbe  masteries 
of  tbe  hingCiom  of  beaven,  but  to  tbem  it  is  not  given."— 

St.  Matthew  xiii.  10,  11. 

That  is  to  say,  there  are  some  persons  to 
whom  the  Master  speaks  plainly,  and  tliere  are 
others  Avho  fail  to  catch  the  meaning  of  His 
words.  Is  this  due  to  the  different  characters 
of  the  two  classes  ?  Are  there  some  who  are 
naturally  capable  of  understanding  and  others 
naturally  incapable  ?  To  a  certain  extent  tliis  is 
the  explanation.  There  is  this  difference  among 
people.  But  it  is  not  the  distinction  which  He 
has  in  mind  here.  What  He  says  is  tliat  there  is 
one  class  of  people  who  can  understand  because 
they  have  put  themselves  in  a  position  to  do  so  ; 
while  another  class,  clearly  capable  by  nature, 
fail  to  understand  because  their  position  toward-^ 
Him  is  not  right.  In  a  word,  He  says  that  He 
will  tell  His  secrets  to  the  members  of  His  society, 
and  He  not  only  will  not,  but  cannot,  tell  them 
to  those  outside  of  His  society.     This  society  is- 

817 


X 


218  CONCERNING  THE  CHURCH. 

usually,  and  pro[)erly,  spoken  of  as  the  Church. 
It  is  right  here  that  we  see  the  fundamental 
meaning  and  use  of  the  Church. 

^/  What  is  it  ?     What  is  it  for  ? 

~~  To  begin  with,  all  sober-minded  x^ersons  will 
agree  that  the  hope  of  humanity  is  in  some  way 
bound  up  in  Jesus  Christ.     If   His   programme 

^  should  fail,  there  is  no  other  in  sight.  If  His 
plan  for  the  redemj^tion  of  the  world  for  any 
reason  fails  to  operate,  there  is  no  other  plan 
ready  to  take  the  field.  Not  only  the  eternal 
future  of  individuals,  but  the  actual  future  of 
society  is  fastened  to  His  fortunes.     Probably 

__few,  if  any,  will  question  this. 

But  it  is  the  thought  of  many  that  His  work 
is  not  necessarily  connected  in  any  way  with  a 
society  or  organization.  There  are  myriads  of 
people  who  call  themselves  Christians,  and  really 
believe  tliat  they  are  so,  who  not  only  have  no 
connection  with  the  Church,  but  who  do  not 
believe  that  their  Christianity  is  in  any  way 
dependent  upon  their  connection  therewith. 
They  call  themselves  Christians.  Sometimes 
they  belong  to  one  sect  or  society  and  sometimes 
to  another.  They  pass  from  one  such  society  to 
another  without  hesitation.  It  is  purely  a  matter 
of  convenience.  It  does  not  enter  their  minds 
that  any  one  organization  has  claims  upon  them 
more  than  another.  Often  tliey  say  of  them- 
selves that  they  "do  not  belong  to  any  particular 

•^  church."     Their  goodness  is  not    in    question. 


CONCERNING  THE  CHURCH.  219 

The  question  really  is  about  ^tlieir  attitude 
toward  Christ's  visible  society.  This  feeling,  we 
fancy,  underlies  the  Christian  lives  of  the  great 
majority  of  Protestants.  To  their  way  of  think- 
ing one  becomes  a  Christian  first  and  joins  the 
Church  afterward.  Indeed,  it  is  not  absolutely 
essential  that  he  should  join  the  Church  at  all. 
When  he  does  do  so  he  casts  about  among  the 
various  organizations  to  find  the  one  which  best 
"suits"  him,  and  unites  himself  with  it.  His 
whole  action  proceeds  from  the  fundamental  n^ 
belief  that  religion  and  chnrch  membership  have 
no  necessary  connection  with  one  another. 

I  believe   this   position  to  be  fundamentally"^ 
false.     I  believe   the  secret  of  the  comparative  i  ,t 
failure  of  Christ's  programme  in  the  world  is  to  be^ 
found  in  the  wide  prevalence  of  this  error.     At 
present  the  "Church  idea"    obtains  practically 
among  Roman  Catholics,  Quakers,  largely  among 
Episcopalians,    and  among  a  few  of  the  smaller 
divisions  of  Presbyterians.     Elsewhere  it  hardly 
exists  at  all.     This  is  all  the  more  strange  when . 
we  remember  that  up  to  a  period  of  less  thanX 
two  centuries  ago  the  Church  idea  was  universal. 
Among  the  peoples  influenced  by  the  Reforma- 
tion there  was  the  widest  difference  of  opinion 
as  to  which  particular  body  was  the  Church,  but 
all  agreed  that  membership  in  it  was  necessary 
to  salvation.     It  would  be  interesting  to  trace  the 
causes  which  have  brought  about  the  loss  of  this 
conception,  but  this  is  not  to  my  purpose  now._ 


220  CONCERNING  THE   CHURCH. 

,  ~It  may  be  said  in  general  that  it  has  been  due  to 
>    that  spirit  of  individualism  which  has  ojjerated 
in  civil  society  as  well  as  ecclesiastical.     There  is 
every  reason  to  believe  just  now  that  it  has  run 
its  course.     The  tendency  in  politics  is  no  longer 
toward  individualism,  but  toward  political  organ- 
ization.    The  same  thing  can  be  easily  seen  in 
the  religious  world.     The  wide-spreading  interest 
.     in  the  question  of  church  unity  is  simply  the 
A   unconscious  attempt  to  discover  and  identify  the 
^Church  of  Christ.     This  makes  it  worth  while  to 
inquire  briefly  why  it  is  that  we  believe  salvation 
and  the  Church  to  be  bound  up  together.     In 
general,  the   reason   is   a   purely   practical    and 
common-sense  one.      That  which  we  call  salva- 
tion is  a  process  which  has  its  final  issue7  to 
be  sure,  in  the  next  life,  but   it  is  one  which 
-Y  has   to  be  wrought   out   in   this   world.      Now, 
because  it  J3_a-^jicess  whicli  must  be  wrought, 
iC  at  all,  by  human  instrumentalities,  it  is  there- 
fore dependent  upon  those  laws   and   methods 
which  obtain  in  all  human  things.     Christians, 
like  other  folk,  live  in  an  actual  world.     If  they 
would  effect  anything,  it  must  be  done  by  the 
same  kind  of  processes  which  are  necessary  in 
^this  world. 

As  things  are  in  this  life  of  ours,  even  divine 

processes   can   only   be   effected   by   the   use   of 

A  macliinery.     God's  objects   are   divine,  but   His 

methods  are  practical.     Whether  He  could  do  so 

or  not,  it  is  evident  that  He  will  not  work  with- 


CONCERNING  THE  CHURCH.  221 

out  tools.  Now,  the  redemption  of  humanity — "" 
that  is,  the  saving  of  men  from  their  sins  and 
their  follies,  the  purification  of  human  society — 
all  this  is  an  enormous  contract.  It  stands  to 
reason  that  it  cannot  be  done  without  suitable 
means.  Nothing  in  anything  analogous  to  it  is 
done  without  the  use  of  suitable  instruments. 
For  good  government,  or  indeed  for  government 
of  any  kind,  that  which  we  call  the  State  is 
essential.  For  human  affections,  that  institution 
which  we  call  the  family  is  essential.  So  for  the 
great  process  which  includes  both  these,  as  well 
as  a  thousand  others,  it  is  but  divine  common- 
sense  that  an  organization  should  be  provided.  V  V 
If  what  we  call  "  salvation"  were  only  the  effort 
of  individual  souls  to  save  themselves  from 
future  disaster,  each  individual  soul  might,  con- 
ceivably, do  this  without  reference  to  any  other 
soul.  But  this  is  a  conception  of  salvation 
which  Jesus  disavows.  He  will  have  nothing  to 
do  with  it.  It  is  a  significant  fact  that  whenever 
individuals  come  to  feel  deeply  any  of  the  ills  of 
humanity,  they  proceed  at  once  to  organize  them- 
selves into  a  society  whose  purpose  is  to  alleviate 
those  ills.  Such  a  society  is,  as  far  as  it  goes,  a 
church.  Even  those  religionists  who  make  least 
of  the  Church  idea  recognize  this  necessity  in 
their  own  Avork. 

In  this  connection  it  is  but  ordinary  candor  to 
face  the  objection  so  often  made  that  the  Church X 
is  not  broad  enough  to  include  all   those  who 


222  CONCERNING  THE  CHURCH. 

\>  would  willingly  co-operate  with  Christ  in  His 

"^  divine  purpose  for  humanity,  I  believe  that 
objection  to  be  unfounded.  It  is  perfectly  true 
that  organizations  calling  themselves  churches 
have  from  time  to  time  made  conditions  of 
membership  which  could  not  and  ought  not  to 
be  accepted  by  those  whose  allegiance  the 
Church  has  sought.  This  is  true  to  some 
extent,  though  not  nearly  to  the  extent  that 
the  Church's  critics  allege.  Such  conditions, 
when  they  have  been  made,  usually  affect  the 
ministry  and  officers  of  the  society  alone.  As  a 
rule  they  do  not  touch  the  actual   life  of  its 

X  members.  We  believe  that  within  any  of  those 
societies  which  may  be  called  component  parts 
of  the  Church  of  Christ,  there  is  more  liberty  of 
belief  and  of  action,  ten  times  over,  than  there  is 
in  those  other  societies  which  have  been  organ- 
ized for  a  kindred  purpose  by  men  themselves. 
1  The  truth  is,  that  just  in  proportion  as  a  society 

V  is  really  a  church,  in  the  same  proportion  are  its 
members  free.  |  Nevertheless,  we  cannot  help 
seeing  that  there  are  thousands  of  men  and 
women  who  admire  and  sympathize  with  the 
purpose  of  Christ,  and  who  stand  outside  of  His 
church  because  they  declare,  and  no  doubt 
believe,  that  their  reasonable  liberty  would  be 
curtailed  if  they  enrolled  themselves  in  its 
membershix). 

V.  I  am  deeply  persuaded  that  the  thing  above 
all  else   which  is  just  now  needed  within  the 


CONCERNING  THE  CHURCH.  223 

Christian  world  is  a  clearer  conception  of  the  V^ 
idea  of  the  Church.     It  is  the  Master's  divinely 
^appointed  method  of  redeeming  the  world.     It  is 
the  method  which  commends  itself  to  common 
sense,  and  has  been  approved  by  human  experi- 
ence.    In  actual  fact  the  Church  in  its  organized 
capacity  is  doing  the  best  work  for  God  that  is 
^      being  done  in  the  world  at  this  moment.     It  is 
^^  doing  it  best  in  those  places  and  portions  where 

fu  vcr  1 1^  most  clearly  realizes  its  own  divine  establish- 

s'-r"      ment. 


^\p 


XL. 
SINNING  BY  PROXY. 
"IWcttbcr  be  partafter  of  otbcr  men's  sins."—!  Tim. 

OTHT   V.    23. 

In  the  case  of  Mr.  Parnell  a  few  years  ago,  the 
question  arose  as  to  how  far  it  were  possible  for 
men  to  co-operate  politically  with  a  man  whose 
personal  character  had  been  blasted.  It  was  no 
theoretical  question.  It  involved  practical  poli- 
tics. Here  was  one  of  the  born  leaders  of  men  ; 
he  was  a  political  genius.  What  his  followers 
believed  to  be  a  great  cause  was  dependent  upon 
his  leadership.  But  the  world  had  pronounced 
him  to  be  hopelessly  bad  personally.  Could 
they  any  longer  follow  him  politically?  They 
were  compelled  to  decide  reluctantly  that  they 
could  not,  and  Mr.  Parnell  passed  out  of  sight. 
The  question  which  arose  there  was  one  which 
is  constantly  confronting  the  disciple  of  Christ. 
How  shall  he  bear  himself  toward  bad  men  and 
women  ?  It  happens  ai  times  that  he  has  to 
associate  with  people  upon  whom  charity  cannot 
exercise  itself.  One  has  to  do  with  such  in 
society,  in  business,  in  politics,  in  the  mutual 
exchanges  of  human  interest.     How  shall  the 

224 


SINNING  BY  PROXY.  225 

consistent  Christian  act  toward  them  so  as  not 
to  be  in  any  sense  a  partaker  of  their  sins  ?  Of 
course,  I  assume  that  I  speal-c  to  those  wlio^ 
wish  to  know  their  duty  in  order  to  do  it.  My 
purpose  is  not  simply  to  discuss  a  knotty  ques- 
tion in  casuistry. 

'Now,  to  be  more  specific,  shall  a  Christian"* 
woman  retain  upon  her  list  the  name  of  a  notori- 
ously bad  man?     Shall  she  send  him  an  invita- 
tion to  her  reception?     I  assume  that  his  badness 
is  beyond  all  question.      Charity  has  done  its 
utmost  work  for  him,  and  has  exhausted  itself. 
He  is  lewd,  unclean,  dishonorable,  although   he   V 
still  retains  his  standing  in  society.     My  lady 
believes  him  to  be  thoroughly  unworthy.     She 
loathes  his   offenses  and  despises  him,  and  be- 
lieves  that  he   ouglit   to   be   made   to  feel  the 
whip   of  public    scorn.      Shall   she   invite    him 
under  her  roof  on  any  occasion,  or  to  sit  at  lier__ 
table  ? 

Take  another  instance.  Shall  a  Christian  man- 
continue  to  hold  stock  in  and  receive  dividends 
from  a  corporation  which,  in  its  corporate  capac- 
ity, notoriously  violates  the  laws  of  God  and  the 
laws  of  man?  There  are  such  corporations. 
The  men  who  manage  them  are  personally  men  . 
of  standing,  but  the  corporation  itself  is  one 
which  has  been  judged  by  the  public  and  has 
been  pronounced  bad.  It  grinds  the  faces  of  the 
poor.  It  abuses  the  necessities  of  its  employees. 
It  systematically  breaks  faith  with  the  commun-_ 


226  SINNING  BY  PROXY. 

ity.  It  bribes  the  legislature.  It  disregards  the 
promises  involved  in  its  franchises.  It  is  greedy, 
unscrupnlons,  vile.  Now,  what  abont  the  owner- 
ship of  stock  in  it  ?  Its  shares  are  widely  scat- 
tered.    They  were  honestly  bought  and  are  held 

y  by  good  men  and  women.  These  men  and  women 
detest  and  abhor  the  methods  of  the  corporation, 
which  have  been  mentioned,  when  they  become 
aware  of  them.  Shall  they  still  continue  to  draw 
their  dividends  ?    If  not,  what  shall  they  do  with 

_  their  stock  ? 

Or,  take  another  instance.  Shall  one  go  to  the 
theater  to  see  a  notorious  adul  tress  upon  the 
stage  ?  She  is  a  genius,  the  queen  of  her  art, 
but  her  character,  or  her  brazen  lack  of  charac- 

y  ter,  is  notorious.     She  has  taken  no  pains  to  con- 
'  ceal  it.     She  flaunts  it  in  the  world's  face.     "Her 
fault  is  not  an  accident,  'tis  her  trade  !  "  Assum- 
ing, then,  that  theater-going  is  as  innocent  intrin- 
sically as  tennis-playing,  does  it  remain  innocent 

_  when  the  star  is  such  a  notoriously  fallen  star? 

One  could    multiply   such    instances    by   tlie 

dozen.      They    confront    the    Christian    daily, 

hourly,  in  his  walk  through  life.     How  shall  he 

escape  the  pollution  of  other  men's  sins?    In  a 

N/  primitive  community  the  problem  would  be,  and 

'  was,  much  less  difficult.     Human  lives  were  not 

entangled  with  each  other  as  they  now  are.     A 

man  or  a  family  lived   a  self-contained  life — as 

tliey  cannot  now.     The  conditions  of  all  living 

are  so  complicated  that  they  have  made  the  con- 


SINNING  BY  PROXY.  227 

ditions  of  Christian  living  far  more  difficult.  For 
example,  in  the  case  of  the  bad  man  whom  the 
pure  matron  hesitates  to  invite  to  her  home,  it 
unfortunately  happens  that  he  has  a  wife  or  sis- 
ters, a  mother  or  father,  who  are  clean,  honor-  / 
able.  With  the  "■  human  blindness  kindly  ^ 
given,"  they  refuse  to  believe  in  his  un worthi- 
ness. If  his  name  is  omitted  from  the  invitation 
they  will  decline  to  come,  and  maybe  the  sweet 
friendship  of  years  will  be  destroyed.  What  is 
she  to  do  ? 

Or,  again,  a  man  in  business  says,  "I  know  very~^ 
well  the  evils  of  the  men,  and  the  methods,  with 
Avhom  I  am  compelled  to  deal,  but  I  do  not  make 
the  conditions  of  business.  They  are  as  hard 
and  as  inevitable  as  are  the  physical  laws  of  the 
universe.  I  cannot  set  up  a  different  code  of  my 
own.  There  is  no  chance  for  it.  I  must  shut  the 
eyes  of  my  conscience,  and  open  its  mouth,  and  < 
swallow  the  things  which  I  loathe."  Or  one 
says  :  "I  am  aware  of  the  character  of  the  actor 
ux^on  the  stage  before  which  I  sit.  But  I  love 
art.  I  need  relaxation.  If  I  absent  myself  from 
the  theater  every  time  that  a  man  or  woman  of 
doubtful  reputation  appears  upon  tlie  stage,  I 
shall  be  com[)elled  to  starve  an  innocent  appetite_ 
for  an  innocent  amusement." 

The  difficulty  of  the  situation  seems  to  many 
to  be  incurable.  It  is  so  perplexing  that  thou- 
sands of  good  people  have  given  up  trying  to 
solve  it.     They  simply  follow  the  fashion,  what- 


228  SINNING  BY  PROXY. 

ever  it  may  be.  They  observe  the  conventional 
requirements  of  business,  society,  politics,  or 
what  not,  and  rest  content  with  that.  Is  tliere 
no  clew  to  this  labyrinth  ?  How  shall  the  Chris- 
tian live  his  life  in  the  midst  of  the  complexities 
of  modern  society,  and  at  the  same  time  keep 
himself  unsi)otted  from  the  world? 

There  have  been  two  solutions  which  have 
commended  themselves  to  multitudes  of  good 
Christians,  which  seem,  however,  to  be  both 
faulty  and  dangerous.  The  first  is  what  is 
known  as  "spiritual  direction."  The  individual 
Christian  begins  by  confessing  that  the  practical 
problem  of  Christian  living  is  too  difficult  for 
himself.  He  therefore  puts  his  life  under  the 
guidance  of  an  expert.  He  goes  to  the  ]3riest. 
He  confesses  to  him  day  by  day,  or  week  by  week, 
his  deeds  of  the  past  and  his  intentions  for  the 
future,  and  asks  to  be  directed.  If  he  be  docile 
his  spiritual  director  will  guide  him  and  will 
assume  the  responsibility.  The  method  has 
great  attractions.  It  appears  to  be  a  simple  and 
natural  solution  of  the  difficulty.  It  has  been 
adopted  in  many  Churches  and  in  many  ages. 
There  are  thousands  of  good  Christians  who  still 
believe  in  and  practice  it.  Still,  I  venture  to 
think  and  to  say  that  it  is  wrong,  and  doubly 
dangerous.  Experience  is  against  it.  Once  con- 
sistently carried  out,  it  ends  by  making  the  indi- 
vidual who  adopts  it  a  confirmed  spiritual  child, 
if  not  a  hopeless  imbecile.     If  he  begins  by  being 


SINNING  BY  PROXY.  229 

willing  to  be  led  by  tlie  liand,  he  ends  by  becom- 
ing unable  to  walk. 

The  other  method  is  more  subtle  and,  if  pos- 
sible, more  dangerous  still.  It  is  the  attempt  to 
distinguish  between  professional  and  personal 
character.  It  says,  for  instance,  "lam  not  dis- 
turbed by  the  personal  character  of  the  actors 
upon  the  stage.  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  their 
personal  character.  It  is  not  the  man  I  go  to  see, 
but  the  actor.  If  he  is  master  of  his  art,  and  can 
interpret  to  me  the  facts  and  emotions  of  the 
drama  of  human  life,  I  am  content.  I  neither 
know  nor  care  what  he  is  before  he  comes  upon 
the  stage  nor  after  he  leaves  it.  I  see  him  only 
in  his  stage  dress,  and  he  is  to  me  not  a  man  at 
all,  but  an  artist.  I  have  no  more  to  do  with  his 
personal  character  than  I  have  with  the  personal 
character  of  the  surgeon  whom  I  call  in  to  perform 
an  operation  upon  a  member  of  my  family.  In 
that  case  I  seek  the  surgeon  who  knows  his  busi- 
ness best.  If  he  can  do  the  thing  for  which  I 
hire  him,  I  come  in  contact  with  him  solely  at 
that  point  and  touch  his  life  nowhere  else." 

Is  this  answer  satisfactory  ?  There  is  much  in" 
it.  If  it  were  not  so  specious  it  would  not  be  so 
generally  adopted  as  it  is  by  clear-minded  people. 
You  will  observe  that  it  is  the  contention  which 
was  made  by  the  friends  of  Mr.  Parnell.  Prob- 
ably there  is  no  case  upon  record  where  it  has 
been  more  ably  urged  than  it  was  in  that  instance. 
But  it   was  urged  in  vain.     The  robust  moral. 


/ 


230  SINNING  BY  PROXY. 

sense  of  a  Christian  community  refused  to  enter- 
tain it.  Tliey  refused  wisely.  It  is  a  principle 
of  action  which  is  attended  by  the  direst  moral 
X)eril.  In  the  first  place,  it  is  directly  in  the  teeth 
of  the  teaching  of  Holy  Scripture.  That  book, 
which  experience  has  proven  to  be  the  surest 
guide  to  men's  steps  in  moral  things,  insists  upon 
distinguishing  between  good  men  and  bad.  Its 
glory  is  that  it  refuses  to  gloss  over  moral  dis- 
tinctions. It  says  always  that  the  good  are  good, 
and  the  bad  are  bad,  and  that  this  distinction  is 
in  the  individual  himself.  In  the  second  place, 
it  proceeds  from  a  radically  false  notion  of 
human  nature.  It  assumes  that  it  is  possible  for 
two  human  personalities,  like  two  circles,  to 
touch  each  other  at  a  single  point  only.  That 
they  may  touch  one  another  in  society,  in  busi- 
ness, in  politics,  in  amusement,  and  remain  apart 
in  all  the  other  points  of  their  lives.  Right  here 
is  tlie  mistake.  When  two  human  beings  come 
in  touch  at  all,  they  touch  throughout  their 
whole  extent.  The  iDrocess  is  not  a  mechanical, 
but  a  vital,  one.  If  we  permit  a  polluted  soul 
to  touch  ours  at  all,  the  pollution  discolors,  as  a 
drop  of  colored  liquid  will  discolor  a  vase  of 
crystal  water.  The  two  lives  flow  together. 
They  mingle  so  quickly,  and  they  combine  with 
such  a  chemical  obstinacy,  that  it  requires  a 
spiritual  chemical  reagent  to  precijDitate  tliem. 
As  the  Scripture  puts  it,  one  "cannot  touch 
pitch  and  not  be  defiled." 


SINNING  BY  PROXY.  231 

But  the  final  reason  why  the  Christian  may~- 
not  adopt  this  principle  of  action  is  because  if 
he  does  so,  it  destroys  his  power  as  a  "  witness. "xK 
It  puts  out  his  light.  The  Master  conceived 
clearly  of  the  task  to  be  done  by  Him  and  by  His 
followers  in  this  world.  There  is  a  great  heap  of 
wrongs  to  be  reduced.  There  are  evils  to  be 
rectified.  There  is  a  whole  world  of  bad  things 
to  be  made  good.  The  first  step  in  this  direction 
is  that  Christ's  co-laborer  must  get  himself 
clear  from  the  evil  which  he  proposes  to  attack. 
He  cannot  live  permanently  in  both  camps.  He 
cannot  come  and  go  without  let  or  hindrance 
from  one  camp  to  another.  It  is  in  this  con- 
sideration that  one  finds  the  key  to  Christian 
living  in  the  presence  of  evil.  He  must  always 
so  bear  himself  that  he  can  rebuke  sin.  He  can- 
not rebuke  it  if  he  hold  shares  of  stock  in  it.  He 
cannot  approach  the  wrong-doer  as  a  missionary 
so  long  as  he  can  be  accused  with  any  sort  of 
color  in  sharing  in  the  wrong  of  the  evil-doer. 
Probably  no  simpler  test  could  be  discovered  to 
apply  to  conduct  in  this  regard  than  for  each 
Christian  to  ask  himself  tlie  question:  "Can  I 
share  in  this  business,  in  this  pleasure,  in  this  , 
society,  and  at  the  same  time  be  sure  that  I  shall  • 
be  listened  to  if  I  point  to  the  evils  in  any  of  _ 
them?" 


XLI. 

MEN'S  EVIL  TURNED  TO  GOOD. 

*'  XLbc^  cjatbcreO  tbem  togetbcr,  and  filleD  twelve  ba0?iet6 
witb  tbe  fragments  ot  tbe  five  barlegsloaves,  wbicb  re* 
maineD  over."— John  vi.  13. 

These  pieces  of  barley  bread  and  dried  fish  bad 
just  passed  through  the  alembic  of  a  miracle. 
From  it  they  emerged  and  were  still  barley  bread 
V  ^^  and  dried  fish.  The  miracle  had  not  transformed 
their  quality.  It  had  increased  their  quantity; 
it  had  changed  their  use,  but  it  had  not  de- 
stroyed their  identity. 

This  is  a  parable  of  the  process  whereby  the 
"natural"  man  becomes  the  "spiritual"  man. 
The  process  is  a  divine  one.  It  is  miraculous  in 
the  highest  degree.  But  it  does  not  destroy  the 
man's  identity.  The  "new  man "  is  formed 
from  the  material  which  existed  in  the  "old 
V  V  man."  Here  is  the  great  problem  of  personal 
religion.  How  can  a  man  be  transformed  into  a 
new  creature  without  losing  his  identity?  It  is 
not  so  much  fear  of  the  pain  of  plucking  out 
one's  right  eye,  or  cutting  off  one's  right  hand, 
which  makes  him  hesitate  at  the  frontier  of  the 
Kingdom  of  Heaven.  It  is  the  fear  that  he 
would  not  be  himself,  but  someone  else,  after  he 
—  Should  enter.     How  can  a  man  eliminate  all  his 

232 


MEN'S   EVIL  TURNED  TO   GOOD.  233 

badness  and  still  retain  his  identity  ?    The  classic- 
pagan  thought  of  a  dark  flowing  river  which  all 
men  must  finally  cross.     This  river  was  on  the 
one  side  Lethe  and  on  the  other  side  Eunoe.     He 
who  walked  down  its  hither  bank  lost  all  memory 
of  the  past  in  its  water  ;  crossing  to  the  farther 
side  he  was  reborn  and  emerged  another  creature.  ^•^^ 
Unfortunately  there  is  no  such  river,  nor  would 
men  willingly  enter  it  if  there  were.     What  shall 
one  who  strives  to  fashion  his  life  according  to 
Christ  do  with  his  own  evil  past  ?     It  remains  a 
fact,  it  cannot  be  obliterated,   it  cannot  be  for-^ 
gotten — what  is  to  be  done  ? 

Think  for  a  moment  of  the  strange  way  in 
which  the  whole  course  of  a  man's  life  is  boundX, 
together  by  the  ligature  of  memory.  Every  soul 
keeps  a  record  of  its  own  past.  This  record 
embraces  the  sins  as  well  as  the  virtues.  Indeed, 
the  sins  are  more  deej^ly  engraven  on  the  tablet 
of  memory  than  the  virtues.  One  fancies  some- 
times that  he  has  forgotten,  that  they  have 
passed  into  oblivion.     He  is  mistaken,  he   has  xT 

not  forgotten  them.  They  are  liable  at  any 
moment  to  emerge  into  his  consciousness  to  sur- 
prise and  shame  him.  /  One's  soul  is  a  labyrintli. 
Memory  takes  him  by  the  hand  at  times  and 
leads  him  reluctantly  into  its  dark  places,  when 
to  his  astonishment  he  finds  that  he  has  been 
there  before  and  has  left  a  mark.^  Even  the 
body  has  a  memory.  Evil  acts  have  grown  into  . 
habits,  and  the  habits  have  changed,  as  it  were,     - 


\ 


XX 


2;U  MEN'S  EVIL  TURNED   TO  GOOD. 

the  molecular  constitution  of  the  flesh.  The 
universe  in  which  we  live  has  a  memory.  It  is  a 
plastic  matrix.  One's  form  gives  it  shape,  and 
the  shai3e  hardens.  Every  act,  thought,  impulse, 
good  or  bad,  records  itself  in  one's  own  memory 
and  in  the  unconscious  memory  of  the  universe. 
There  they  abide. 

Here,  then,  is  the  problem.  We  enter  upon 
the  new  life,  if  we  enter  upon  it  at  all,  with 
ineffaceable  memories.  If  we  be  converted  we  be 
still  the  same  persons.  Now,  how  can  cordial 
relations  be  established  with  God,  to  whom  the 
secrets  of  all  hearts  are  exposed?  It  would 
clearly  be  impossible  for  any  man  or  woman 
to  live  twenty-four  hours  in  the  presence  of 
any  other  man  or  woman  who  literally  knew 
everything  that  there  is  or  has  been  in  the  way 
of  thought  or  action  in  his  soul  and  body. 
No  human  consciousness  could  abide  it.  Prob- 
ably if  there  were  but  two  human  beings  in 
existence,  and  if  the  secrets  of  each  one  were 
thoroughly  exposed  to  the  other,  they  would 
X^refer  the  loneliness  of  the  opposite  sides  of  the 
world  rather  than  such  a  dreadful  companion- 
ship. How,  then,  is  life  with  God  possible  with 
a  shamed  memory  ?  Bear  in  mind  there  is  no 
such  thing  as  forgetting.  Things  do  not  pass 
out  of  the  memory  ;  they  sink  down  in  it  out  of 
sight,  and  one  cannot  recall  them  at  will,  but  they 
are  always  there  and  always  liable  to  be  recalled 
even   by  an  accident.     In  one's  dreams  of  the 


MEN'S  EVIL  TURNED  TO  GOOD.  235 

night,  things    of  the  past  climb   up  from   the~ 
depths  of  recollection   where  he  had  supposed 
them  to  be  buried  out  of  sight  and  forgotten. 
Buried  things  out  of  these  depths  stand  about ^/^ 
his  bed  and  make  his  night  hideous.     What  can 
one  do  in  the  presence  of  God,  to  whom  all  things^ 
are  as  an  open  book  ? 

There  is  a  sort  of  pious  notion  that  God,  out  of"" 
His  mere  good  nature,  will  "  forgive  and  forget  'V 
upon  the  mere  asking.  Such  a  notion  springs 
from  ignorance,  both  of  God  and  of  man.  For- 
giveness of  sins  is  not  so  simple  a  matter,  and 
the  forgetting  of  sins  is  more  difficult  still.  If 
forgiveness  of  sins  only  meant  the  canceling  of  a 
debt,  one  can  imagine  the  Almighty  drawing  His 
pen  across  the  pages  of  the  ledger  which  coun- 
tain  the  account,  or  tearing  out  the  leaves  and 
flinging  them  away.  If  it  were  one  of  penalty 
one  can  imagine  a  divine  despot  throwing  Justice 
and  equity  to  the  winds,  and  pardoning  because 
he  chose  to  do  so.  All  such  notions  are  shallow, 
and  fail  utterly  to  take  account  of  the  obstinate 
facts  of  existence.  The  real  difference  between 
God  and  men  is  that  we  are  friends  and  kinsmen 
who  have  become  estranged,  and  because  the 
estrangement  is  due  to  our  wanton  fault.  How 
can  two  estranged  friends  be  bronght  together 
again  in  sweet  affection,  and  what  shall  become' 
of  the  cause  of  the  estrangement  ? 

Take  an  illustration  :     Your  friend  with  whom 
you  walked  sweetly,    whom   you  loved,  and  in 


:x 


236  MEN'S  EVIL  TURNED   TO   GOOD. 

^—wliom  you  confided,  has  turned  and  stabbed  you. 
You  are  surprised  and  shocked.  Or  your  friend 
in  whom  you  believed  has  done  a  shameful  deed. 
You  have  become  aware  of  the  fact,  and  he 
knows  that  you  know  it.  How  can  you  there- 
after walk  together  as  friends  ?  What  can  be 
done  to  restore  the  old  affection  ?  Forgive  him, 
y\  )<^  and  go  on  as  you  have  been  ?  You  cannot  for- 
give him  ;  and,  more  than  that,  you  ought  not 
to  forgive  him.  He  who  too  readily  condones  a 
sin  goes  far  toward  committing  the  same  sin. 
It  is  easy  to  mistake  moral  insensibility  for 
spiritual  charity.  People  often  think  they  have 
forgiven  a  fault  when  the  truth  is  their  moral 

nature  is  too  dense  to  be  hurt  by  the  fault. 

It  is  at  this  point  that  the  need  for  an  atone- 
ment appears.     The  atonement  is  not  a    theo- 
logical   device.     It  is  not  a  piece  in  a    logical 
mosaic.     It   has  its   necessity   in   the   nature  of 
men,  and  in  the  nature  of  God.     They  are  kins- 
folk between  whom  wrong  has  made  an  estrange- 
ment.    Yet  they  must  go   on    living    together, 
-w  Ny.  How  shall  they  manage  so  that  thej^can  exist  to- 
^      '  gether  throughout  the  centuries,  throughout  the 
eternities,   in   comfort?     The   atonement    is  the 
thing   that   we   want,    not    the   thing   that   God 
needs.     Take   another  illustration :     I  knew,  as 
who  has  not  known,  a  young  man  in  a  trusted 
business  position  who  abused   the  confidence  of 
y  his   big-hearted  employer,  and  misappropriated 
_  the  firm's  money.     As  is  always  the  case,    the 


X 


MEN'S  EVIL  TURNED  TO   GOOD.  237 

time  came  when  the  head  of  the  firm  discoverecT" 
the  fault.     He  was  indignant,  and  he  was  also 
heart-broken,  because  the  fault  was  committed 
by  a  young  man  whom  he  loved.     He  had  no 
desire  to  prosecute.     He  would  a  thousand  times 
rather  have  replaced  the  money  and   kept  the 
young   man   in   the   hope  of  his  better  future.  ^  V. 
The  young  man  himself  was  repentant — deeply,  ^  ^ 
poignantly    repentant.     He    comes    to    me   and 

says  :   "I  can't  face  Mr.  .     If  he  were  not  so 

good  as  he  is,  I  could  go  to  him.     If  he  were  vin- 
dictive   against    my    fault,    I    could  stand    up 
before  him.     But  his  goodness  shames  me.     I__ 
can't  look  him  in  the  face." 

For  what  did  this  young  man  seek  a  medi-"~~ 
ator  ?  He  did  not  ask  anyone  to  pay  his  debt. 
The  debt  could  not  be  paid.  The  creditor  didn't 
want  it  paid.  What  the  offender  really  wished 
was  someone  who  would  vouch  for  the  sincerity 
of  his  penitence.  Christ  for  man  is  not  the 
payer  of  a  debt  to  an  angry  creditor.  His  cross 
is  no  scales  upon  whose  arms  is  "  weighed  in 
balance  true"  the  price  of  an  offense.  He  is  .^  V 
the  friend,  known  and  trusted  by  both  parties  in  ' 
the  moral  transaction.  He  can  vouch  for  the 
good  will  of  the  Almighty  Father  offended,  and 
for  the  penitence  of  the  man  who  has  sinned. 
Indeed,  the  distinguishing  mark  of  Christianity 
is  the  way  in  which  it  deals  with  men's  sins.  It 
does  not  profess  to  make  restitution.  It  does 
not  attempt  to  placate  the  Almighty  with  offer-_ 


XX 


238  MEN'S  EVIL   TURNED  TO   GOOD. 

ings.  It  makes  no  pretense  to  obliterate  the 
past.  It  rests  ni)on  the  fact  that  God  and 
men  are  of  kindred  nature,  with  like  affections 
and  emotions.  It  saves  the  sinner  from  moral 
despair,  not  by  leading  him  to  forget  his  own 
past,  or  by  trying  to  persuade  him  that  the  facts 
of  his  life  have  ceased  to  be  facts.  Being  led  by 
the  hand  of  Christ,  the  mediator,  the  man  or 
woman  who  is  grieved  and  wearied  with  the  bur- 
den of  his  sins,  who  is  tempted  to  follow  the 
primal  instinct  and  hide  himself  from  God 
because  he  is  naked,  finds  courage  to  uncover 
his  shamed  soul  in  the  presence  of  God.  A 
divine  chemistry  transmutes  remorse  into  grati- 
tude. It  clianges  memory  into  adoration.  The 
Christian  becomes  a  new  creature,  but  he  does 
not  cease  to  be  the  old.  He  understands  that  he 
is  naked,  but  he  is  no  longer  ashamed,  for  he 
has  passed  into  the  light  of  the  new  paradise. 


XLII. 

JESUS  THE  PATH-FINDER. 

**  IfoUOW  me."— Matthew  xvi.  24. 

Christianity  takes  for  granted  tliat  all  men- 
are  "lost."     But  it  is  well  to  understand  dis- 
tinctly that  when  it  says  lost,  it  does  not^  mean 
condemned.     It  uses  the  word  lost  according  to 
its  simple,  every-day  meaning.     A  man  is  "  lost " 
when  he  does  not  know  where  he  is,  or  in  which 
direction  to  turn.     Jesus  evidently  conceives  the 
situation  to  be  something  like  this  :     Humanity 
is  a  company  of  people— men,  women,  and  chil- 
(iren— who    are    entangled    in    the  mazes  of  a 
strange  country.     He  seems  to  think  of  them  in 
the  world  as  we  might  think  of  a  group  of  emi->(  ^ 
grants  who  have  lost  themselves  in  the  midst  of 
tropical  Africa.     The  country  about  them  is  fair, 
but  perilous.     It  is  rich  in  resources  and  offers 
much  gratification  to  the  senses,  but  it  is  satu- 
rated with  unseen  miasmas.     From  out  of  its  fair 
forests  may  emerge  at  any  time  ravening  wild 
beasts.     From  its  shady  valleys  may  come  at 
any  moment  forms  worse  than  those  of  demons. 
They  have  explored  the  territory  for  a  little  way 
round  about  them.     They  have  built  themselves,. 


240  JESUS  THE  PATH-FINDER. 

habitations  and  have  fallen  into  a  routine  of  liv- 
ing. The  children  and  the  stupid  ones  among 
.\  them  are  content  with  the  situation.  But  the 
^  '  '  sober-minded  and  wise  are  deeply  anxious  for 
more  light.  Indeed,  they,  and  they  alone,  are 
aware  that  their  community  is  lost. 

~~  This  seems  to  be  Christ's  conception  of 
humanity.  They  are  in  the  midst  of  a  universe 
of  which  they  are  partial  explorers,  but  of  which 
they  know  little.  They  are  exposed  to  dire 
perils  of  which  they  themselves  are  ignorant. 
V  V  They  know  not  which  way  to  turn  in  order  that 

*  they  may  establish  communication  with  the 
other  inhabitants  of  the  universe.  It  is  to  this 
situation  that  Christianity  speaks.  It  is  the 
reply  to  the  needs  of  the  men  who  are  lost.  It 
shows  them   how  to   live  in   the  world,   and  it 

__  uncovers  the  path  out  of  it. 

\  These  are  really  the  two  questions  of  religion. 
V  How  ought  I  to  live  ?  What  path  is  there  to 
walk  in  when  I  shall  have  done  living?  j  Jesus 
Christ  offers  himself  as  the  answer  to  both  of 
these.  His  answer  must  needs  be  examined.  It 
can  only  be  put  aside  or  ignored  by  stupid  folk. 
His  solution  may  be  rejected,  but  to  reject  it 
without  examination  is  folly.  He  comes  so 
accredited  that  He  must  be  listened  to. 

What,  then,  is  His  word  to  men  who  recognize 
that  they  are  unable  to  solve  the  riddle  of  living, 
or  who  wish  to  know  which  way  their  faces  shall 
turn  ou  dying  ?    To  recur  again  to  the  simile  of 


JESUS   THE   PATH-FINDER.  241 

the   African   emigrants  :     He   does  not   offer  to— 
relieve  them  by  giving  a  chart  or  any   detailed 
description  of   the  path   they  should  take.     In 
this  is  His   difference   from    all   other  religious 
leaders  of  men.     They  have  issued  rules  for  liv- 
ing, a  philosophy  to  be  interpreted,  a  theology 
to  be  trusted.     Jesus  does  none  of  these  things,  w 
He    says    to    the    company    of    perj)lexed    and'^ 
frightened    people:     "Follow    Me."      That   is, 
"Do  as  I  do.     As  you  watch  Me,  act  as  I  act, 
think  as  I  think,  and  live  as  I  live,  and  thus  you 
will  escape  from  the  perils  and  necessities  of 
life  as  I  escape  from  them."   ,  Christianity  is  the., 
imitation  of  Christ.  \ 

Let  us  see,  then,  more  narrowly  what  His 
manner  of  life  was.  A  Hebrew  carpenter,  thirty 
years  of  age,  renounces  the  joys  of  life  and  love 
to  give  himself  solely  to  well-doing.  He  re- 
nounces them  after  having  seen  them.  The 
psychology  of  the  Tem^Dtation  is  marvelous.  The 
possibilities  of  a  triumphant  life  passed  across  K 
the  mirror  of  His  mind  as  clear  and  sharp  as  a 
picture  in  the  most  brilliant  sunlight.  He  verily 
saw  the  "kingdoms  of  the  world  and  all  the 
glory  of  them."  He  put  them  aside  in  obedience 
to  a  higher  resolve,  and  what  was  the  result? 
Poverty,  disappointment,  distress  ;  the  seeming 
failure  of  His  plans. 

He  was  outspoken  for  the  truth  against  every 
lie.  There  was  no  guile  in  His  mouth.  His 
high  resolve  for  true  thinking  matched  His  de- 


242  JESUS   THE   PATH-FINDER. 

-^termination  for  true  doing.  The  result  was 
that  it  i)ut  Him  in  tlie  wrong  with  His  fam- 
ily, with  His  church,  with  His  neighbor,  with 
His  government.  His  kinsfolk  said  He  was  mad. 
His  chnrcli  said  He  was  a  blasphemer.  His  neigh- 
bor said  He  was  a  disturber  of  the  peace.     His 

\  government  said  He  was  a  malefactor.  His  way 
of  life  incensed  His  fellows  to  such  an  extremit}^ 
that  at  last  by  the  j)ractically  unanimous  con- 
sent of  all  concerned,  He  was  put  out  of  the  way 
as  a  man  who  was  too  disagreeable  to  be  allowed 

__  to  live. 

—  He  submitted  tamely  to  every  wrong.  He  bore 
Himself  toward  His  enemies  as  other  men  do  to- 
Avard  their  friends.  Affront  could  not  arouse 
Him,  insult  could  not  disturb  Him — Avith  the 
result  that  He  was  despised,  reviled,  cuffed, 
and  in  the  end  crucified.  He  does  not  at  all  dis- 
guise the  difficulty  and  peril  of  the  patli  in 
which  He  walked.  It  may  cost  fortune  :  "  Sell 
all  thou  hast  and  follow  Me."  It  may  cost  pain  : 
"If  thy  right  hand  offend  thee,  cut  it  off  ;  it  is 
better  so."  It  may  cost  the  starvation  of  the 
affections:  "He  that  loveth  father  or  mother 
more  than  Me,  is  not  worthy  of  Me."  In  his 
phrase  it  "brings  a  cross."  "  If  any  man  deter- 
mines to  follow  Me,  let  him  take  up  his  cross." 
This  is  the  doctrine  of  the  cross.  But  in  the  face 
of  it  all,  He  stands  serenely  looking  at  the  lost 
company  of  lost  humanity  and  says  to  them 
"Follow  Me!" 


k 


JESUS  THE  PATH-FINDER.  243 

In  the  presence  of  the  hard  facts  of  life  there~ 
is  the  stubborn  conviction  that  in  a  world  like 
ours  it  is  not  safe  to  accejDt  His  leadershii).     Said 
a    clear-minded     and    candid    man:     "I    can't 
afford  to  be  a  Christian  ;  it  costs  too  much.     If 
it  only  cost  money  that  would  be  a  trilie,  but  it 
seems  to  me  that  I  could  onlj^  be  a  Christian  at/^ 
the  cost  of  all  that  makes  life  worth  living.     I 
am  not  ready  to  renounce  the  joys  of  life  and 
love.     I  am  not  willing  to  be  despised  and  re- 
jected.    His   way  may  be    divine  and    all   that, 
but  it  is  a  way  along  which  I  am  not  prepared  to_„ 
follow  Him." 

What  shall  we  say  to  this  ?  Here  is  His— 
invitation  to  follow.  Here  is  the  known  dif- 
ficulty of  His  path.  What  considerations  will 
persuade  or  justify  a  reasonable  man  in  walking 
under  His  leadershiiD  ?  In  the  first  place,  there 
is  the  strange  fact  that  there  is  an  imj)erious 
voice  in  the  secret  soul  of  every  sane  man  which 
asserts  that  Jesus  is  right.  The  inmost  nature  \^ 
of  a  man  responds  to  Him.  While  the  flesh 
shrinks  from  it,  and  the  mind  is  perj^lexed  at  it, 
the  spirit  itself  recognizes  in  the  voice  of  the 
Master,  not  only  the  voice  of  God,  but  the  voice  of 
the  most  real  humanity.  To  follow  this  innermost 
voice  along  His  thorny  path  is  the  supreme  act 
of  faith.  Faith  in  Christ  is  really  not  so  much 
the  assent  to  the  truth  of  what  He  says,  us  it 
is  the  assent  to  the  truthfulness  of  one's  own_ 
innermost  soul. 


244  JESUS  THE  PATH-FINDER. 

^  In  the  next  place,  there  is  the  jDalpable  fact 
that  the  evils  of  life  can  be  overcome  in  no  other 
way  but  this  way.  So  far  as  they  have  yielded 
at  all  they  have  yielded  to  His  weajions.  It  is  by 
gentleness,  patience,  purity,  and  meekness  that 
the  world  itself  has  gone  forward.  Force  defeats 
itself.  "  The  meek  shall  inherit  the  earth,"  is 
not  alone  prophecy;  it  is  history.  The  measure 
of  the  progress  of  the  race  is  its  increasing 
\  gentleness.  They  that  take  the  sword,  shall 
A  perish  by  the  sword.  He  that  hnmbleth  himself 
shall  be  exalted.  Mr.  Huxley  asserts  the  ab- 
solute truth  of  these  dicta  as  emphatically  as 
does  St.  Paul.  Says  Mr.  John  Fiske :  "In  the 
cruel  strife  of  centuries  has  it  not  often  seemed 
as  if  the  earth  were  to  be  rather  the  jDrize  of  the 
hardest  heart  and  the  strongest  fist  ?  To  many 
men  the  words  of  Christ  have  been  as  foolishness 
and  as  a  stumbling-block,  and  the  ethics  of  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  have  been  openly  derided 

_as  too  good  for  this  world. 

"In  that  wonderful  picture  of  modern  life  which 
is  the  greatest  work  of  one  of  the  great  seers  of 
our  time,  Victor  Hugo  gives  a  concrete  illustra- 
tion of  the  working  of  Clirist's  methods.  In  the 
\,  Ny  saint-like  career  of  Bishop  Myriel,  and  in  the 
'^  transformation  which  his  example  works  in  the 
character  of  the  hardened  outlaw,  Jean  Valjean, 
we  have  a  most  powerful  commentary  on  the 
Sermon   on   the   Mount.     By   some   critics   who 

__could    express   their    views    freely   about    '  Les 


JESUS  THE   PATH-FINDER.  245 

Miserables,'  while  hesitating  to  impugn  directly^ 
the  authority  of  the  New  Testament,  Monseig- 
neur  Bienvenu  was  unsparingly   ridiculed   as  a 
man  of  impossible  goodness,  and  as  a  milksop 
and   a   fool   withal.     But  I  think   Victor   HugoV> 
understood  the  capabilities  of  human  nature  and 
its  real  dignity  much  better  than  these  scoffers. 
In  a  low  stage  of  civilization  Monseigneur  Bien- 
venu would  have  had  small  chance  of  reaching^ 
middle  life. 

"Christ,  himself,  we  remember,  was  crucified 
between  two  thieves.  It  is  none  the  less  true 
that  when  once  the  degree  of  civilization  is  such 
as  to  allow  this  highest  type  of  character,  distin- 
guished by  its  meekness  and  kindness,  to  take 
root  and  to  thrive,  its  methods  ai'e  incomparable  - 
in  their  potency.  The  Master  knew  well  that 
the  time  was  not  yet  ripe — that  He  brought  not 
j)eace,  but  a  sword.  But  He  preached,  neverthe- 
less, that  Gospel  of  great  joy  which  is  by  and 
by  to  be  realized  b\^  toiling  humanity,  and  he 
announced  ethical  principles  fit  for  the  time  that 
is  coming." 


XLIII. 

GOD'S  OPINION  OF  A  MAN'S  VALUE. 
"  1bo\v  mucb  then  is  a  man  better  tban  a  sbeep  ?  "— 

Matthew  xii.  12. 

"^  This  is  the  curious  argnment  that  our  Lord  ad- 
dressed to  the  Jews  in  justification  of  His  action 
in  healing  a  man's  withered  hand  on  tlie  Sabbath 
day.  His  works  of  healing  seem  to  have  been 
very  frequent,  and  they  do  not  appear  to  have 
excited  very  much  surprise.  He  seems  to  have 
been  tlioughtof  as  a  "fal?.eer"  of  unusual  power. 
In  the  popular  mind  He  does  not  appear  to  have 
been  regarded  otherwise  than  as  a  distinguished 
V,  physician.  But,  according  to  the  minute  Jewish 
^  code,  the  physician  was  not  allowed  to  do  his 
work  on  the  Sabbath  day.  In  spite  of  this  code 
Jesus  healed  the  man's  withered  hand;  healed 
him  on  the  Sabbath  day,  and  in  the  synagogue. 
He  was  at  once  charged  with  Sabbath-breaking. 
It  was  useless,  as  He  knew,  to  appeal  in  the 
presence  of  such  accusers  to  the  real  principle  of 
the  Sabbath  day.  He  therefore  made  His  argu- 
^ment  to  that  sense  which  has  always  been  keen 
in  the  Hebrew  race.  He  appealed  to  their  ideas 
,„.of  commercial  value.     He  says  to  them  :    "  You 

246 


GOD'S  OPINION  OF  A  MAN'S  VALUE.  24V 

yourselves  will  violate  your  code  to  save  a  slieep"" 
which  has  fallen  into  a  pit  on  the  Sabbath  day. 
You  do  not  do  so  from  any  sense  of  pity  for  the\/  \y 
sheej),  but  because  it  is  too  valuable  a  thing  to 
be  permitted  to  be  wasted.     Now,  a  man  is  more__ 
valuable  than  a  sheep." 

This  is  His  statement  of  the  way  in  which  God"" 
looks  at  men.     He  deems  them  intrinsically  the    • 
most  valuable  of  all  His  possessions.     He  seeks 
to  save  them  not  solely,  maybe  not  primarily, 
moved  by  a  feeling  of  compassion,  but  by  regard 
to  His  own  interest.     There  is  an  old  proverb 
which  says  that  "  the  worst  use  a  man  can  be  put  V  )^ 
to,  is  to  be  hanged."     This  proverb  might  be  im- 
proved upon,  and  reverently  placed  in  the  mouth 
of  God  it  would  run  :  "The  worst  use  that  a  man 
can  be  put  to,  is  to  be  damned."     It  would  seem 
to  be  clear  that  this  is  a  use  to  which  no  man  will 
be  put  if  his  owner  can  by  any  possibility  avoid  it.  — 

The  teaching  of  Jesus  is  that  God  holds  all  men 
and  each  man  to  be  of  practically  infinite  valae.^ 
It  is  this  estimate  of  humanity  which  has  given 
the  religion  of  Jesus  such  a  hold  upon  men.  It 
elevates  them  into  a  x^osition  of  dignity  which  no 
other  conception  of  religion  at  all  approaches. 
It  is  true  that  it  is  an  estimate  which  differs  radi- 
cally from  that  of  many  men  accounted  wise. 
Caesar  does  not  disguise  his  scornful  estimate  of 
"  the  greasy  multitude."  The  Pharisee  dismisses 
the  whole  mass  of  a  generation  with  contempt  as 
"knowing  not  the  law,  and  therefore  accursed." 


X 


248  GOD'S   OPINION   OF  A  MAN'S  VALUE. 

'"  Mr.  Carlyle  speaks  of  the  population  of  England 
as  "consisting  of  thirty  millions,  mostly  fools." 
This  contemptuous  and  un-Christ-like  estimate 
of  liumanity  has  obtained,  and  does  obtain,  widely 
even  within  Cliristianity  itself.  The  whole  of 
the    monastic    system    is    built    upon   it.     The 

\.  popular  theology  of  America  is  saturated  with 
^«  it.  It  shows  itself  in  devotional  literature,  in 
hymns  and  prayers.  It  calls  men  "vile  earth 
and  miserable  sinners,"  and  forgets  that  this  is 
the  language  of  only  a  transient  mood  of  religious 
feeling,  and  is  not  the  Christian  estimate  of  man. 
The  idea  of  the  Incarnation  itself  is  based  upon 

__the  intrinsic  dignity  and  capability  of  humanity. 
-"  "How  much,"  Jesus  asks,  "is  a  man  better 
than  a  sheep  1 "  How  much  ?— and  the  unspoken 
reply  evidently  is,  he  is  infinitely  more  valuable. 
He  Himself  insists  always  upon  the  intrinsic 
value  of  the  individual  soul.  He  does  so  both  in 
His  teaching  and  His  action.  He  identifies  Him- 
self wit^h  the  children  of  Adam  by  speaking  of 

.     Himself  habitually  as  the  Son  of  Man.     In  the 

A  striking  genealogy  given  by  one  of  the  evangel- 
ists, He  is  described  as  "the  Son  of  David,  who 
was  the  son  of  Seth,  who  was  the  son  of  Adam, 
who  was  the  Son  of  God."  His  estimate  of 
humanity  appears  most  strikingly  in  that  mar- 
velous trilogy  of  parables,  the  lost  coin,  the  lost 
sheep,  and  the  lost  son.  The  woman's  single 
gold  piece  which  had  rolled  away  into  a  corner, 

^and  had  been  covered  over  and  concealed  with 


GOD'S   OPINION  OF  A  MAN'S  VALUE.  249 

dust  and  rubbish,  and  which  had  to  be  sought— 
for  with  broom  and  candle,  had  remained  gold 
during  all  the  time  of  its  concealment.     By  being- 
lost  it  did  not  cease  to  be  gold.     It  was  sought 
for  because  it  was  precious  in  itself.     Had  it  been 
worthless,    the   woman    would   not  have    taken 
the  trouble,  and  her  neighbors  would  not  have 
joined  her  in  the  search  for  it.     When  the  one  \     v, 
silly  sheep  out  of  the  hundred  wandered  into  the  ^  'v 
wilderness,  lost  its  way,  was  torn  with  brambles, 
was  frightened  by  wolves,  was  thirsty  and  starv- 
ing, it  still  remained  a  sheex^.     Its  strajdng  did 
not  change  it  into  a  tiger,  or  even  into  a  goat. 
The  motive  of  the  shepherd  in  leaving  the  ninety 
and  nine  to  seek  the  one  which  was  lost  was  not 
pity  alone,  but  was  at  least  in  part,  that  he  could_^ 
not  afford  to  lose  it. 

The  prodigal  youth  in  the  far  country,  feasting" 
among  harlots,  and  starving  among  swine,  did 
not  lose  his  birthright.  He  remained  throughout 
it  all  his  father's  son.  The  father's  eyes  never 
lost  sight  of  him.  It  detected  the  first  motion  of 
the  boy  toward  return.  The  father  kept  sight 
of  him  in  all  his  wanderings,  and  rejoiced  at  his 
return,  because  the  contentment  of  his  own  exist-  ^ 
ence  was  marred  and  could  not  be  easy  until  his 
child  was  brought  home  again.  This  is  the  teach- 
ing of  Jesus  concerning  the  way  in  which  our 
Father  in  Heaven  estimates  His  children  on 
earth.  When  He  looked  abroad  upon  the  multi- 
tude He  was  filled  with  compassion  because  they— 


250         GOD'S  OPINION  OF   A  MAN'S  VALUE. 

were  "as  slieep  without  a  shepherd."  They 
were  not  only  suffering,  but  they  were  being 
wasted.  When  He  looks  again  over  the  same 
multitude  He  thinks  of  the  field  of  grain  ripe  for 
the  harvest,  but  for  which  there  are  no  reapers. 
He  cannot  abide  the  thought  of  the  waste  of  so 
V  much  good  wheat.  His  pi-actice  was  like  His 
theory.  No  one  can  think  of  Him  as  a  dema- 
gogue, yet  no  one  ever  spoke  of  men  in  such  high 
terms  concerning  themselves.  The  common 
people — that  is,  the  average  man— heard  it  gladly 
because  his  own  consciousness  assented  to  the 
__  truth  of  Jesus'  thought. 

This  truth  has  been  greatly  obscured  by  a 
pestilent  mock  humility.  The  notion  is  current 
that  the  more  one  reviles  and  pours  contempt 
upon  human  nature  the  more  he  exalts  the  pity 
and  compassion  of  God.  It  is  true  that  there  are 
certain  moods  of  the  soul  in  which  it  is  over- 
V'whelmed  with  a  sense  of  its  own  unworthiness. 
But  this  sense  of  unworthiness  is  itself  the  proof 
that  the  subject  of  it  is  conscious  of  his  relation- 
ship to  the  xll  mighty.  It  is  only  a  being  real  1 3^ 
possessed  of  infinite  capacities  which  can  be  so 
overwhelmed  with  a  sense  of  its  shortcoming  as 
find  expression  in  the  abject  confessions  of  prayer 
and  liturgy. 

If  it  be  objected  that  this  estijnate  of  the  in- 
trinsic value  of  all  men  in  the  sight  of  God  tends 
to  obscure  the  distinction  between  the  "saved" 
and  the  "lost,"  between  the   Church   and   the 


GOD'S   OPINION  OF  A  MAN'S  VALUE.  251 

world,  the  reply  is,  that  no  one  who  really  con- 
siders the  matter  can  venture  to  think  that  some 
men  are  deemed  valuable  by  Grod  and  others 
deemed  worthless. 

This  conception  of  human  worth  lies  at  the 
root  of  all  earnest  efforts  toward  human  reform. 
What  most  men  need  to  induce  them  to  strug- 
gle upward  to  their  own  high  ideal,  is  a  sense 
of  hopefulness.  It  is  greatly  to  be  feared  that 
much  of  the  teaching  and  speaking  about 
religion  tends  to  ajmthy  rather  than  to  action. 
Any  man  who  becomes  seriously  convinced 
that  his  own  human  nature — the  only  nature 
which  he  possesses — is  accounted  contemptible 
by  God,  will  despair  in  advance  of  ever  being 
God's  friend.  This  is  really  the  skepticism 
which  paralyzes  men's  religious  effort.  It  is  not 
disbelief  in  God,  it  is  disbelief  in  themselves. 
Having  become  possessed  of  the  un-Christian 
notion  that  they  are,  as  men,  on  a  level  with  the 
worms,  instead  of  "only  a  little  lower  than  the 
angels,"  they  fear  to  set  forward  along  a  path 
which  seems  to  them  to  be  so  extended  that  their 
will  fails  them. 

What  prevents  men  from  attempting  the  relig- 
ion of  Christ  is  an  antecedent  hopelessness.     It  is 
true  that  salvation  is  by  "grace,"  but  it  is  also-v,, 
true  that  the  grace  of  God  offers  itself  to  crea--^ 
tures  which   He   regards,  not  as  reptiles  or  as 
demons,  but  as  children  of  his  own  blood. 


X 


XLIV. 

THE  DEVIL. 

**  tTbcn  was  Jeeus  .  .  .  tcmpteD  ot  tbe  Devil."— Mat- 
thew iv.  1. 

Who  is  the  devil  ?  What  is  the  devil  'i  Is 
there  any  devil  ? 

The  mere  asking  these  questions  soberly  and 
serinonwise  is  likely  to  startle  certain  persons. 
For,  if  skex)ticism  concerning  God  is  widespread, 
y^  skepticism  concerning  the  devil  is  practically 
universal.  Can  any  serious-minded  man  main- 
tain the  existence  of  a  conscious,  personal  spirit 
of  evil  ? 

It  is  true  that  the  figure  under  which  the  devil 
is  presented  before  the  imagination  is  one  which 
has  come  to  be  seen  to  be  grotesque  and  childish. 
Nevertheless,  the  fact  that  an  idea  has  been 
inadequately  or  falsely  presented  does  not  show 
that  the  idea  itself  is  without  foundation  in  fact. 
y^We  believe  in  the  devil.  That  is  to  say,  we  be- 
lieve in  the  actual  existence,  in  this  universe,  of 
an  intelligence  controlling  and  directing  the 
kingdom  of  evil,  which  intelligence  can  only  be 
regarded  as  personal  because  it  operates  so  much 
like  other  personalities  operate.  Why  do  we 
countenance  such  a  i)iece  of  superstition  ?    It  is 

S53 


THE  DEVIL.  253 

true  that  the  devil  is  the  first  piece  of  super- 
naturalism  which  the  modern  Sadducee  throws 
overboard  in  his  attempt  to  lighten  ship.     WhenAf 
we  decline  to  dismiss  the  conception  we  are  called 
upon  to  give  some  sensible  reason  for  doing  so. 

Of  course,  the  fact  that  any  belief  has  been"" 
entertained  through  all  times  and  by  all  peoples 
does  not  prove  its  truth.  The  world  has  been 
unanimously  mistaken  more  than  once.  It 
thought  once  that  the  sun  moved  and  the  earth 
stood  still;  it  was  mistaken,  but  this  and  all 
similar  errors  are  not  due  to  stupidity  or  to 
superstition.  They  are  due  to  the  existence  of  \ 
things  that  look  like  facts,  and  are  facts  for  all  \ 
practical  x)urj)oses,  until  they  are  differently  ex- 
plained. Now,  the  belief  in  the  existence  of 
superhuman  spirits  of  evil  is  one  of  the  uni- 
versal instincts.  No  nation  or  tribe  or  people  is 
wi  thout  it.  In  our  every-day  thinking  and  speak- 
ing there  is  no  jDersonage  more  frequently  alluded 
to,  and  whose  name  is  more  familiar  even  to  hard- 
headed  men  of  science  than  that  of  the  devil.       — ^ 

It  is  at  least  a  curious  fact  that  the  three  . 
great  poems  of  the  three  great  languages  revolveA  ^ 
about  the  personality  of  Satan.  Dante,  Milton, 
and  Goethe  have  all  sung  of  the  devil.  It  is 
true  they  sang  a  good  while  ago,  but  it  is  clearly 
true  that  their  songs  were  the  songs  of  genius, 
and  genius  is  not  limited  by  time.  But  whnt  dif- 
ference does  it  make  whether  one  has  a  place 
in  his  creed  for  the  devil  or  not  %     I  reply,  that. 


254  THE  DEVIL. 

.  in  the  first  place,  this  idea  is  so  closely  associated 
with  a  number  of  other  religious  beliefs  that  when 
one  of  them  disappears  the  others  are  likely  to 
disappear  with  it.  Angels,  devils,  and  spirits  are 
thoughts  which  entangle  one  another.  \  One 
begins  by  casting  out  the  devil  from  his  theology, 
and  he  may  wake  to  the  discovery  later  on  that 
Xiiis  angels  have  flown  away,  the  Divine  Spirit  has 
become  inconceivable,  and  he  comes  finally  to 
question  the  independent  essential  existence  of 
his  own  soul.  \  The  dark  things  of  life  seem  to 
require  a  personal  explanation  in  much  the  same 
way  as  do  the  orderly  and  bright  ones.  What- 
ever belief  in  God  comes  from  the  so-called  "ar- 
gument of  design"  would  seem  to  be  associated 
with  a  belief  in  the  existence  of  personal  evil,  to 
—which  the  same  argument  leads. 

Then,  again,  the  way  in  which  one  speaks  and 

X^  thinks  of  the  mysteries  of  spiritual  evil  is  a  sort 

of  index  of  the  way  in  which  he  conceives  of  the 

nature  of  sin.     When  Burns,  in  his  address  to  the 

Deil,  says, 

"  Oh,  thou,  whatever  title  suit  thee, 
Auld  Hornie,  Nick,  or  Cloveu  Clootie," 

one  discerns  in  his  flippant  words  the  spirit  of  a 
man  who  has  little  if  any  serious  notion  of  the 
y  evil  quality  of  sin.  He  who  dismisses,  therefore, 
^^this  current  belief  may  well  inquire  whether  or 
not  he  has  dismissed  Avith  it  his  sense  of  sin.  It 
might  be  better  for  him  to  believe  in  a  devil,  the 


THE  DEVIL.  255 

conventional  devil  with  horns  and  hoofs  and 
forked  tail,  rather  than  to  believe  not  at  all  in 
the  fact  of  moral  wrong,  which  even  popular 
ignorance  has  thus  personified. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  this  belief  is  so  intertwined 
with  all  religious  thought  and  phraseology,  thatv, 
even  if  it  should  become  necessary  in  the  interest 
of  truth  to  dissect  it  out,  there  would  be  serious 
peril  of  destroying  the  adjacent  tissues.  Satan, 
the  same  indefinite  personage,  comes  in  sight  at 
every  step  in  the  progress  of  religious  belief. 
He  is  implicated  in  creeds  and  articles  and  con- 
fessions Just  as  he  is  expressed  in  popular  speech 
and  in  the  literature  of  Holy  Scripture.  \The 
development  of  the  doctrine  of  the  devil  runsjy- 
curiously  parallel  with  the  doctrine  of  the  Incar- 
nation of  Christ.  \  The  two  beliefs  emerge  slowly 
in  the  course  of  the  centuries.  At  first  both  con- 
ceptions are  vague,  formless,  and  elusive.  But 
little  by  little  they  become  coherent  and  well 
articulated.  The  one  expresses  itself  in  Christ, 
while  the  other  culminates  in  the  person  of  that 
strange  and  mysterious  evil  intelligence  which 
confronts  Him  in  the  wilderness,  and  tempts  Him 
with  all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  and  the  glory 
thereof.  No  sober-minded,  religious  man  who 
has  seriously  pondered  the  question  will  be 
greatly  disturbed  by  the  grotesque  and  childish 
conceptions  of  the  devil  which  are  current  among 
the  vulgar.  It  may  be  that  the  popular  ideas  of 
the  devil  are  about  as  true  to  the  facts  in  the  case 


256  THE  DEVIL. 

as  are  the  popular  conceptions  of  God.  But  the 
thoughtful  man  does  not  throw  away  his  belief  in 
God  because  foolish  men  fail  to  catch  it,  or  because 
they  caricature  it.  This  universe  is  a  spacious 
place.  It  is  hard  to  believe  that  its  sentient 
inhabitants  are  confined  to  the  human  popu- 
lation of  a  single  planet.  One  cannot  believe 
that  so  enormous  and  elaborate  a  universe  could 
have  been  constructed,  and  could  be  maintained 
for  such  a  comjjaratively  trivial  purpose.  It 
woukl  seem  more  likely  in  advance  that  the  uni- 
verse is  i)opulated  with  spiritual  beings.  It  is 
easy  to  see,  at  any  rate,  that  in  the  portion  of 
existence  with  which  we  are  familiar,  spiritual 
evil  is  as  real  a  fact  as  is  spiritual  good.  It  is 
not,  therefore,  difficult  to  believe  that  wrong  is 
organized,  and  in  some  strange  way  is  directed  to 
its  own  purpose  by  an  intelligent  master. 
""  But  what  of  it  ?  Can  any  blast  of  pestilential 
breath  come  from  the  abyss  to  blight  the  soul  ? 
As  we  walk  through  the  little  paths  of  our  intel- 
ligent existence,  do  we  come  within  speaking 
distance  of  any  extra- human  intelligence  living 
at  the  same  time  ?     In  a  word,  is  it  possible,  or 

^even  conceivable,  that  any  spirit  of  evil  can 
trouble  and  cloud  the  currents  which  spring  and 
flow  from  the  source  of  our  own  consciousness  ? 
Men  can  speak  to  us  and  we  can  understand  and 
be  interested.  God  can  whisper  to  our  souls,  and 
we  can  yield  to  His  suggestions,  or  can  refuse. 

_.  Can  any  spirit  of  evil  suggest  his  mischievous 


TKE  DEVIL.  257 

ideas  by  any  secret  process  to  our  souls?    We-^ 
touch  here  the  extreme  border  of  the  mystery  of 
living.     Can  any  living  intelligence  si)eak  to  any 
other    living    intelligence    except    through    the 
mediiini  of  tlie  senses  ?     This  is  the  belief  which 
lies  at  the  root  of  all  religion.     It  believes  that/K^ 
spirit  can  touch  spirit,  independent  of  material 
vehicle.     But  if  this  be  so,  then  the  human  sonl 
must  walk  exposed  to  the  solicitations  of  personal 
evil  as  well  as  to  the  gentle  urgings  of  the  Divine __ 
Spirit. 

The  belief  in  the  fact  of  a  personal  spirit  of 
evil,  and  of  the  possibility  of  its  contact  with  the>y 
human   soul,  brings   nnspeakable  relief    to   the 
problem   of   personal  righteousness.     It  enables 
the  man  who  is  struggiiug  after  holiness  to  sepa- 
rate himself  from  his  sin.     For  if  one  is  deeply 
persuaded  that  the  evil  which  he  is  conscious  of 
within  him  is  the  true  and  essential  expression  of 
his  own  inmost  self,   then   he  must  despair  of 
reaching  righteousness.     Says  Dr.  Dale:   "  Evil"^ 
thoughts  come  to  us,  which  are  alien  from  all  our 
convictions,  and   all   our  sympathies.     There  is 
nothing  to  account  for  them  in  our  external  cir- v^ 
cumstances,    or    in    our    intellectual    life.      We^ 
abhor  them,  but  they  are  pressed  upon  us  with 
cruel   persistency.      They  come   to   us  at   times 
when  their  presence  is  most  hateful."  ~ 

We  are  sometimes  pursued  and  harassed  by 
doubts   which  we   have  deliberately  confronted,V 
examined,  and  concluded  to  be  absolutely  desti- 


258  THE  DEVIL. 

"tnte  of  force;  doubts  about  the  very  existence 

of  God,  about  the  authority  of  Christ,  about  the 

realit}^  of  our  own  redemption.     Temptations  to 

lust  or  dishonor  seem  to  lie  in  wait  for  us.     They 

trip  us  up.     They  seem  to  wait  for  opportunity 

-V.  to  take  us  unawares.     The  sane  man  knows  that 

A  these  temx)tations  are  real,  and  that  they  do  not 

come  from  his  own,  real,  inner  self.     He  knows 

the  evil  of  his  own  soul.     If  he  believes  that  this 

evil  is  all  an  intrinsic  part  of  himself,  he  has  the 

feeling   that  to  eliminate  it  would  be  little  less 

_than  suicide. 

If  he  comes,  on  the  other  hand,  into  a  belief 
which  enables  him,  when  he  is  tempted,  to  say 
with  St.  Paul,  "  It  is  not  I,  but  sin  that  dwelleth 
in  me,"  then  he  can  set  about  the  task  of  driving- 
out  the  sin  witliout  fear  of  losing  his  own  identity. 
"Beware  of  your  adversary  the  devil,"  is  good 
counsel,  good  sense,  as  well  as  good  religion. 
The  soul  seeking  after  righteousness  must  take 
account  of  all  the  facts  of  his  spiritual  surround- 
V^ings.  The  "Man  most  man"  was  not  exempt 
from  the  necessity.  Let  one  conceive  of  the 
devil  as  he  will,  whether  in  the  abused  form  of 
popular  notion,  or  under  the  metaphysical  guise 
of  philosophy,  he  still  remains  a  fact  to  be  taken 
account  of.  He  is  not  omnipotent,  his  wisdom  is 
often  folly.  He  over-reaches  himself.  He  can 
be  driven  away.  He  can  be  resisted.  But  he  is 
the  expression  of  a  consciousness  which  lies  at 
the  very  heart  of  man. 


XLV. 
TRUTH  AND  GOODNESS. 
"  Zbc  faitb  . . .  once  DeliveieD  unto  tbe  saints."— Jude  3. 

Theue  are  probably  few  verses  in  Holy  Scrip--" 
ture  which    have  l)eeii  compelled  to  do  duty  for 
whicii  they  never  were  intended  as  this  one  has. 
It  is  common  to  hear  it  used  as  though  it  meant 
"  The  Creed  was  once  for  all  given  to  the  Church." 
But  the  Faith  is  not  the  same  as  the  Creed,  and       ^ 
unfortunately,  the  saints  are  not  quite  identical 'A  A 
with  the  Church.     If  it  has  to  be  paraphrased  at 
all,  it  would  be  nearer  correct  to  say  "  The  Faith 
was  formerly,  is  now,  and  ever  shall  be  under- 
stood by  the  holy."     The  power  to  understand 
the  truth  of  God  is  dependent  upon  moral  good-_ 

ness. 

There  is  such  a  thing,  however,  as  the  Faith, 
used  in  the  popular  sense.  That  is  to  say,  there 
is  a  body  of  facts,  or  what  we  believe  to  be  facts 
—as  for  example,  the  birth  of  Jesus  of  the  Virgin 
Mary,  under  Pontius  Pilate,  His  crucifixion,  His 
resurrection  from  the  dead,  and  His  ascension 
into  heaven.  These  we  believe  to  be  facts  which 
have  their  place  in  space  and  time.  They  are  part 
of  history.     There  is  a  body  also  of  a  different 

259 


260  TRUTH   AND   GOODNESS. 

kind  of  truths  which  are  not  related  to  history. 
We  believe,  for  example,  in  God.  We  believe 
that  He  has  in  the  past,  and  does  now,  communi- 
cate with  human  souls.  We  believe  in  prayer — 
that  it  is  not  an  unreasonable  thing  for  a  man  to 
speak  words  which  are  expected  to  awaken  a 
response  in  the  mind  and  the  heart  of  the 
Almighty.  We  believe  in  the  forgiveness  of  sins 
— that  is  to  say,  in  the  possibility  of  a  man's  un- 
doing the  evil  which  he  has  done,  and  escaping 
its  consequences,  though  not  its  poison.  These 
truths  might  be  added  to  considerably.  I  have 
not  tried  to  enumerate  all  the  articles  of  the 
Christian  Faith.  It  is  enough  to  give  these  as 
instances  of  what  I  mean.  The  sum  total  of 
them  all  is,  for  this  purpose, "The  Faith."  Some 
are  profoundly  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the 
faith,  others  deny  it,  and  many  are  doubtful. 
This  makes  it  worth  while  to  ask  the  questions — 
How  does  anyone  know  these  things  ?  How  were 
these  truths,  if  they  are  truths,  originally  reached? 
How  can  they  now  be  proved  to  be  true  ? 

In  other  spheres  the  methods  of  reaching 
truth  are  very  obvious.  In  the  physical  sci- 
ences one  reaches  truth  by  patient  investigation, 
experiment,  and  discovery.  The  physicist  in  his 
laboratorj^,  with  his  test  tubes  and  apparatus, 
makes  experiment  after  experiment  for  the  pur- 
X)Ose  of  ascertaining  whether  a  thing  which  he 
suspects  to  be  true  is  really  true.  He  corrects 
his  experiments  one  by  another.      He  reads  in 


TRUTH  AND  GOODNESS.  261 

books  the  account  of  experiments  wliicli  other 
men  have  made.  He  profits  by  others'  failures, 
while  he  annexes  every  success.  As  the  result 
of  it  all  there  emerges  a  new  fact.  Having  been 
attained,  it  is  set  in  the  category  with  other  sci- 
entific facts,  and  becomes  a  part  of  the  "  Faith  of 
Science."  The  sociologist  i^ursues  substantially 
the  same  method.  He  studies  whole  classes  of 
people,  gathers  statistics,  formulates  them,  sifts 
them,  digests  them.  He  observes,  travels,  in- 
quires, and  as  a  result  he  reaches  the  truth.  This 
truth  becomes  a  j)ortion  of  the  Faith  of  Po- 
litical economy.  One  ascertains  the  truth  about 
the  interior  of  Africa  by  going  there,  or  by  con- 
tributing to  send  someone  else  there,  who  looks 
with  his  own  eyes  at  the  facts,  and  reports  them, 
which  become  thereupon  part  of  the  Faith  of 
Geography.  In  a  word,  in  every  dep)artment  of 
human  life  the  truth  is  either  invented,  or  dis- 
covered, or  accumulated.  Will  these  methods 
operate  in  the  region  of  religious  truth  ?  Who, 
by  searching,  can  find  out  God  ?  Who,  by 
experimenting,  can  understand  the  Incarnation  ? 
Who,  by  observation,  can  come  to  a  knowl- 
edge  of  the  truth  of  self-sacrifice,  of  purity,  of 
miracles,  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  ?  The 
methods  of  attaining  truths  with  which  we  are 
familiar,  and  which  are  so  potent,  seem  to  become 
impotent  the  moment  we  attempt  to  apply  them 
to  this  class  of  beliefs. 
To  whom,  then,  does  the  faith  of  Christianity 


262  TRUTH   AND  GOODNESS. 

lie  ox)en  and  evident  ?  Pilate  intimated  that 
there  is  no  such  thing,  that  it  is  all  a  question 
of  words  and  empty  imaginings,  not  worth  the 
serious  consideration  of  a  practical  man.  The 
secularist  offers  to  demonstrate  the  falsity  of 
religious  beliefs  by  experiment.  All  Avill  remem- 
ber the  stir  which  was  caused  a  good  many  years 
ago  by  Professor  Tyndall's  offer  to  subject  the 
efficacy  of  prayer  to  a  practical  test.  His  proposi- 
tion was  that  in  a  well-known  hospital  of  London 
the  occupants  of  the  beds  in  a  certain  ward 
sliould  ask  the  x^i'^'iyers  of  the  whole  religious 
worUl.  The  occupants  in  the  beds  in  a  corre- 
y  \  sponding  ward  should  be  left  not  i)rayed  for; 
^*  the  same  skillful  treatment  should  be  applied  to 
them  both.  After  a  reasonable  time  should  liave 
elapsed,  it  would  be  seen  whether  or  not  those 
for  whose  recovery  prayers  had  been  offered  liad 
actu  illy  recovered  in  a  larger  percentage  than 
those  left  without  the  benefit  of  prayers.  It 
goes  without  saying  that  the  challenge  was  not 
accepted,  but  it  was  not  clear  to  many  then,  and 
is  not  yet  clear,  why  the  challenge  was  essen- 
— tially  an  absurd  one.  The  dogmatist  from  the 
other  side  of  the  circle  agrees  with  the  secularist 
that  religious  truth  is  not  discoverable.  It  is 
given,  as  he  says,  by  "revelation."  That  is  to 
say,  it  is  let  down  from  heaven  in  the  whole 
piece  and  by  the  arbitrary  determination  of  God, 
and  if  it  were  not  thus  displayed  it  would  remain 
for  men  non-existent. 


TRUTH  AND  GOODNESS.  263 

Our  text  is  the  key  to  the  perplexity.  The 
Christian  Faith  can  be  put  to  the  test  and  can 
be  added  to,  but  this  can  only  be  done  by  the 
methods  and  by  the  persons  who  are  fitted  to  do 
it.  No  one  will  question  that  the  existence  of 
religious  belief  is  a  fact.  There  are  myriads 
actunlly  living  of  men  and  women  who  are  quite 
as  certain  of  God  as  they  are  of  themselves. 
They  are  as  confident  of  the  life  to  come  as  they 
are  of  the  life  which  now  is.  They  are  more 
sure  of  the  absolute  reality  of  self-sacrifice, 
X')urity,  and  the  Christian  way  of  life  generally, 
than  they  are  about  the  facts  of  science,  soci- 
ology, or  commerce.  How,  then,  has  this  faith, 
which  they  hold  so  confidently,  been  achieved  ? 
The  reply  is  not  difficult.  That  literature  which 
we  call  the  Holy  Scripture  contains  the  history 
of  very  much,  though  not  all,  of  the  Christian 
faith.  That  literature  is  not  itself  a  "revela- 
tion" so  much  as  it  is  a  history  of  the  way  in 
which  God's  revelation  has  been  given  and  has 
been  received.  Much  of  it  is  in  the  form  of 
biography.  The  characteristics  of  the  men  who 
have  seen  the  truth,  and  have  made  it  to  be  seen 
by  others,  stand  out  clearly. 

If  we  look  steadfastly  at  the  men  through 
whom  God's  truth  has  come,  we  will  be  able  to 
see  why  it  has  come  to  them,  and  through  them, 
and  has  not  been  sent  by  others.  What,  for 
example,  is  the  mark  of  Abraham,  the  father  of 
the  faithful  ?    He  came  out  of  the  midst  of  a 


264  TRUTH   AND  GOODNESS. 

~  liigli  but  godless  civilization.  Those  lie  left 
behind  him  in  the  Akkadian  city  were  in  many 
ways  wiser  men  than  he.  There  were  scholars, 
philosophers,  poets,  warriors  among  them. 
Nevertheless,  their  contribution  to  humanity  has 
been  forgotten,  while  Abraham's  is  still  cherished. 
Tlie  thing  which  marked  him  was  his  genius  for 
go(jdness.  Moses  was  learned  in  all  the  wisdom 
oL'  the  Egyptians,  to  be  sure,  but  his  gift  to  men 
was  not  due  to  this.  In  fact,  it  was  not  until  he 
had  dwelt  a  long  while  in  the  wilderness  alone 
with  God  that  he  was  fitted  to  be  the  religious 

/\  guide  of  men.  He  saw  the  truth  because  he  was 
good.  The  prophets  were  men  Avithout  learning, 
with  no  power  of  speculation,  with  little  logic. 
They  were  government  officials,  vine  dressers, 
sliepherds,  farmers,  and  beggars.  But  they  were 
the  windows  through  which  God's  light  shone, 
and  has  been  shining  all  these  ages.     They  were 

A  prophets  because  they  were  good.  The  group 
that  gathered  about  Jesus,  Simeon  and  Anna, 
and  Mary  and  John,  gathered  about  Him  because 
they  had  the  faculty  to  which  He  spoke.  They 
became  Christians  because  they  were  already 
good.  Faith  is  the  outcome  of  goodness.  "  The 
pure  in  heart  shall  see  God."  "H  any  man  be 
determined  to  do  my  will,  he  shall  know  of  my 
doctrine."  It  is  the  constant  law  among  the 
jjlienomena  of  religion  that  the  conviction  of  the 
truth  of  spiritual  things  is  only  possible  to  those 
—  who  are  in  sympathy  with  the  moral  nature  of 


TRUTH   AND   GOODNESS.  265 

God.     "The  faith  is  delivered  to  the  saints"— )<;^ 
mid  to  them  alone. 

One  cannot  shut  his  eyes  to  the  feeling  of  dis- 
appointment which  the  statement  of  this  law 
creates.  There  are  many  who  object :  "  You  say, 
then,  that  one  must  be  good  before  he  becomes 
satisfied  of  the  truth  of  religion?  This  empties 
religion  of  all  practical  usefulness.  I  am  keenly 
alive  to  my  own  badness.  I  am  deeply  sensible 
of  the  difficulty,  not  to  say  imiDossibility,  of  be- 
ing good.  The  very  j)iii'POse  for  which  I  seek 
religion  is  that  I  shall  by  it  be  enabled  to  be 
good,  as  without  it  I  am  left  bad,"  The  difficulty 
must  remain.  It  is  inherent  in  the  nature  of 
things.  "  Show  us  a  sign,"  said  Christ's  con- 
temporaries, "and  w^e  will  believe."  If  one  rose 
from  the  dead  they  would  believe.  Jesus  settled 
the  matter  once  for  all  by  his  declaration  that 
they  would  not  believe  even  though  one  rose  from 
the  dead. 

It  is  impossible  in  the  nature  of  things  for  the 
evil  man  to  be  convinced  of  the  truths  of  religion. 
He  simply  cannot  believe  them  to  be  true.  "  If 
our  gospel  be  hid,  it  is  hid  to  them  that  are 
astray."  It  addresses  itself  to  the  moral  facul- 
ties. This  is  the  only  equitable  way.  If  relig-)x^ 
ions  belief  was  contingent  upon  intellectual 
capacity,  men  would  stand  toward  it  in  positions 
of  unequal  advantage.  There  are  some  who  can 
be  wise,  and  there  are  some  wdio  cannot.  This  is 
very  largely  a  matter  of  accident  and   environ- 


266  TRUTH  AND   GOODNESS. 

ment.  Bnt  all  have,  to  some  degree  at  least,  the 
capncity  for  goodness.  Christ  nddresses  Himself 
to  this  capacity.  Experience  has  abundantly 
shown  tliat  it  is  present  in  the  case  of  the  un- 
learned, the  simple,  as  really  as  it  is  in  the  learned 
and  great.  It  is  a  faculty  capable  of  infinite 
cultivation,  but  no  one  is  without  it.  Therefore, 
it  is  ill  keeping  with  God's  infinite  fair  dealing, 
that  faith  is  God's  gift  to  sanctity. 


XLVI. 

THE  TWIN  LAWS. 
"  ©n  tbese  two  commanDments  bang  aH  tbe  law  auD 

tbe  propbCtS." — Matthew  xxii.  40. 

It  is  very  commonly  assumed  that  religion  is 
one  thing,  and  that  morality  is  another.  One 
says  of  an  acquaintance,  "No,  he  is  not  a  relig- 
ious man,  but  he  is  perfectly  moral."  It  would 
look  as  though  this  distinction  did  really  exist. 
There  are  these  two  kinds  of  men.  The  distinc- 
tion would  seem  to  be  in  the  decalogue  itself.  It 
contains  two  "tables,"  one  pertaining  to  God, 
and  the  other  to  men.  Jesus  was  asked  in  his 
day  to  say  which  He  deemed  the  more  important. 
"Master,  which  is  the  great  commandment  of 
the  law  ?  "  And  he  answered  :  "Thou  shalt  lovo 
the  Lord  thy  God  absolutely  ;  thou  shalt  love  thy 
neighbor  absolutely;  on  these  two  command- 
ments hang  all  the  law  and  the  i)rophets."  On 
these  two;  they  may  not  be  separated.  If  they 
be  built  upon,  apart  from  one  another,  the  struc- 
ture will  not  stand. 

Now,  unfortunately,  they  have  been  separated. 
One  class  of  good  men  rests  upon  one  of  them, 

267 


X 


268  THE  TWIN  LAWS. 

and  another  class  upon  another.  The  one  con- 
tains many  religions  women,  and  some  religious 
men.  The  other  contains  many  moral  men,  and 
some  moral  women.  The  ideal  of  goodness  is 
not  the  same  in  the  two  classes.  The  first  puts 
God  in  the  foreground  of  is  goodness  ;  the  other 
puts  man  in  the  front.     A  few  strokes  will  out- 

-  line  the  two  characters.  The  "religious"  man 
wishes  above  all  things  to  be  right  with  God. 
He  attaches  great  importance  to  creed.  He  mnst 
do  so,  for  to  his  mind  all  his  destiny  is  staked 
upon  loving  God,  and  therefore  he  must  have  a 
I)recise  notion  of  who  and  what  God  is.  This  he 
draws  out  into  a  system  of  theology.  He  classes 
it  as  the  "queen  of  the  sciences."     He   loves 

,  clear  definitions,  and  is  imj^atient  of  any  vague- 
-  ness  or  uncertainty  in  the  faith.  He  reverences 
the  Church,  and  bows  to  its  rule.  But  he  does 
not  think  of  the  Church  so  much  as  a  society  for 
the  betterment  of  the  world,  as  a  corporation  for 
the  maintenance  of  the  "  faith  once  for  all  de- 
livered to  the  saints."  To  his  mind  the  essence 
of  religion  is  a  deep,  overwhelming  experience 
of  love  for  God !     This  is  the  "religious"  man, 

—  and  he  is  very  well  known. 

The  other  class  has  man  in  mind,  rather  than 
Go  1,  in  its  attempt  to  attain  goodness.  It  tries 
to  do  rightly.  It  is  keenly  alive  to  the  re- 
lationships which  men  bear  to  one  another.  It 
tries  to  so  adjust  itself  to  these  relationships  as 
will  bring  out  the  greatest  good  of  the  greatest 


THE  TWIN  LAWS.  269 

number.  Such  a  man  is  honest,  chaste,  truthful," 
compassionate.  He  is  often  active  in  charitable 
work,  and  is  still  more  likely  to  endow  some 
beneficence  when  he  makes  his  will.  He  is 
easilj^  touched  by  any  story  of  human  want,  but 
he  can  pass  through  the  fiercest  "  revival"  with- 
out being  moved.  There  could  hardly  be  more 
perfect  types  of  these  two  classes  than  the  late 
Cardinal  Newman  and  the  late  Professor  Huxley. 
One  was  pre-eminently  religious,  and  the  other  v^  , 
a  master  of  morals.  They  were  utterly  incom-^  n--^ 
preliensible  by  one  another.  One  cannot  help 
thinking  that  the  cardinal  did  in  his  secret 
heart  regard  the  professor  as  the  Antichrist. 
Indeed,  he  has  left  on  record  in  his  Apologia 
that  the  thing  from  which  he  fled  in  horror  was 
"liberalism  ;  and  by  liberalism  I  mean  the  move- 
ment  of   the   whole    modern   educated   world." 

Professor  Huxley's  opinion  of  theology  is  too 

well  known  to  need  quoting. 

Here  is  a  most  unfortunate  estrangement  be- 
tween two  kinds  of  good  men.  That  the  two 
named  were  supremely  good  men,  is  beyond  ques- 
tion. Only  a  bigot  or  a  doctrinaire  would  wish jx^  ^ 
to  detract  from  the  goodness  of  either  of  them. 
The  deplorable  thing  is  their  severance.  They 
need  each  other.  Each  has  half  a  truth,  but  only 
half. 

The  estrangement  was  originally  due  to  the 
action  of  those  who  stood  for  religion,  rather 
than    of   those   who  represented   morals.     Ever 


XX 


KX 


270  THE  TWIN  LAWS. 

since  Augustine's  time  Theology  lias  been  more 
pei-plexed  with  the  natural  goodness,  than 
with  the  natural  badness,  of  men.  It  has  denied 
that  natural  goodness  was  good,  and  has  vilified 
it.  It  has  ventnred  to  say  that  "  works  done 
before  the  grace  of  Christ  and  the  inspiration 
of  His  Spirit  are  not  pleasant  to  God,  for  as 
much  as  they  spring  not  out  of  faith  in  Jesus 
Clu'ist;  and  because  they  are  not  done  as  God 
has  willed  and  commanded  them  to  be  done,  we 
doubt  not  but  they  have  the  nature  of  sin!" 

VThat  is  to  say,  mother  love  and  brave,  brotherly 
deeds  done  by  the  "unconverted"  have  the 
nature  of  sin !  No  church  assembly  or  council 
would  venture  or  wish  to-day  to  adopt  such  a 
formulary.  But,  alas,  the  error  from  which  it 
sprang  is  sufficiently  widespread  to  keep  the  false- 
hood from  being  thrown  out  of  Article  and  Con- 
fession of  Faith.  It  is  only  in  our  own  day  that 
morals  has  taken  religion  at  its  own  word.  Now 
it  is  seeking  for  itself  an  independent  "scientific" 
basis.  (  This  cleavage  of  the  heart  of  goodness  is 
suicidal.  There  are  not  two  kinds  of  goodness 
in  the  universe,  but  only  one.  Religion  and 
morality  are  the  same  thing.  We  are  brethren, 
indeed,  dwelling  in  our  Father's  house. \  The 
interplay  of  affection  must  take  in  both  Father 
and  brothers.  If  we  are  not  children  of  the  same 
Father,  then  we  are  not  brethren  at  all,  and 
prating  about  loving  one's  fellow-men   becomes 

-^.empty  talk.     AVhy  should  we  put  ourselves  out 


THE  TWIN  LAWS.  271 

to  oblige  any  man?  Why  should  we  share  with 
him?  Why  should  we  spare  him  if  he  stand  in 
our  way?  There  is  no  reason,  unless  he  be  they^/\ 
child  of  the  same  Father.  And  even  then  there 
is  little  reason,  if  one  has  no  affection  for  his 
Father. 

This  separation  of  the  two  commandments  is~^ 
bad  every  way.  It  makes  religion  a  far-off, 
vague,  mystical  thing,  which  does  not  concern 
actual  living.  It  leaves  morals  without  any 
sufficient  motive  or  basis.  It  separates  good 
men  into  alien  camps.  It  detaches  practical  men 
from  God,  and  leaves  the  best  planned  schemes 
for  human  good  without  enthusiasm.  At  no 
time  in  the  history  of  the  race  have  men  been  so 
intent  upon  their  duty  to  their  fellows  as  to-daJ^ 
Does  any  suffer?  at  once  a  society  is  organized 
for  his  relief.  Is  any  class  oppressed  ?  at  once  a 
movement  for  their  alleviation.  There  is  an 
institution  for  the  care  of  almost  any  description 
of  destitute.  Yet  the  stress  of  the  situation 
seems  to  be  steadily  growing  more  strained.  All 
deplore  alike  man's  inhumanity  to  man  at  the 
very  time  when  the  whole  energy  of  the  time 
seems  to  be  given  to  the  study  of  human  rela- 
tions. The  Church  languishes  and  vainly  essays 
to  recover  her  strength  by  new  definitions  of 
doctrine.  Morals  grow  slack,  even  among  those 
who  are  professed  students  of  economics  and 
anthropology.  What  is  the  matter  ?  Even  this  : 
by  a  fatal  error — the  blame  of  which  may  be  laid 


\ 


272  THE  TWIN   LAWS. 

equally  at  the  door  of  religion  and  morals — a 
separation  has  been  made  of  those  things  which 
God  has  joined  together.  The  love  for  God  and 
the  love  for  men  combined  yield  the  fruit  of 
righteousness. 


XLVII. 

THINK  OF  THE  CHILDREN. 

"XLbe  fatbers  bave  eaten  eour  grapes,  anD  tbe  cbll* 
t>vcn'B  teetb  are  set  on  eDge."— Ezekiel  xviii.  3. 

In  the  old  saws  and  proverbs  of  a  people  are  y 
compressed  its  hereditary  wisdom.  The  Jews 
were  very  partial  to  this  style  of  speech.  Some 
of  their  proverbs  are  exceedingly  striking.  The 
text  is  one  of  the  homeliest  of  all  of  them.  It 
contains  their  testimony  to  one  of  the  hardest 
truths  of  life — that  is,  that  the  children  sufferA 
for  their  parents'  faults.  The  "sins  of  the 
fathers  are  visited  upon  the  children  unto  the 
third  and  fourth  generation."  I  do  not  pro- 
pose to  vindicate  the  fairness  or  equity  of  this 
law.  God  knows  how  to  govern  His  own  uni- 
verse. But  this  is  one  of  the  facts  of  human 
life  which  have  to  be  taken  account  of.  We  are 
the  heirs  of  all  the  ages,  and  our  inheritance 
brings  with  it  much  of  the  evil  which  has  been 
caused  by  the  faults  and  follies  of  those  from 
whom  we  take  our  estate.  When  one  soberly 
considers  the  situation  of  things  he  sees  that  it 
could  not  be  otherwise.  It  is  simply  a  part  of 
the  law  of  heredity.     Humanity  is   not  simply 

273 


X 


274  THINK  OF  THE   CHILDREN. 

an  aggregate  of  innumerable  individuals  thrown 
together  like  oranges  in  a  basket.  It  is  a  living 
organism,  and  each  part  of  it  is  affected  directly 
or  indirectly  by  the  life  of  every  other  part  of  it. 
No  single  generation  is  independent.  Its  roots 
are  in  the  generation  which  went  before,  and  its 
fruits  are  in  the  generation  which  comes  after. 
But  it  is  not  with  the  general  law  of  transmission 
of  penalty  that  we  are  concerned  to-day  :  it  is 
with  one  special  application  of  it. 

There  are  thousands  of  men  and  women  to-day 
who  are  in  a  very  unique  religious  condition. 
They  are  approaching  middle  life  ;  they  are  the 
sons  and  daughters  of  simple,  ortiiodox  parents. 
During  the  last  twenty-five  years  a  number  of 
things  have  occurred  in  the  region  of  religion 
which  make  it  difficult  for  them  to  be  Christians 
in  tlie  same  way  that  their  fathers  and  mothers 
were.  The  discoveries  of  science,  the  movements 
of  literature,  the  changes  of  domestic  habits,  the 
criticism  of  the  Bible,  and  a  hundred  other  things 
have  arisen  which  have  separated  them  from  their 
old  religion.  Some  of  them  regard  this  with  great 
distress.  Where  this  feeling  is  present  it  indi- 
cates an  earnest  nature,  which  may  be  trusted 
sooner  or  later  to  find  out  his  true  relation  to 
divine  things.  With  this  sort  of  person  I  am  not 
now  concerned.  But  there  is  another  class,  alto- 
gether too  numerous,  who  do  not  seem  to  realize 
at  all  the  importance  of  the  religious  side  of  life. 
In  many  cases  they  have  lightly  dismissed  the 


THINK  OF  THE  CHILDREN.  275 

whole  matter  ;  their  time  is  engrossed  with  their" 
busiiiess,  their  profession,  their  society,  and  they 
do  not   concern   themselves  at    all  about  either 
their  own  personal  religion  or  about  the  moral 
betterment    of    society.       Meanwhile,    they   are 
attracted  temporarily  by  various  quasi-religious 
fads.     Tliey  tamper  with  what  they  are  pleased  to 
call  "agnosticism."     Sometimes  they  dabble  in  y, 
"  Christian  Science."     A  few  of  the  more  earnest-  A 
minded  among  them  have  taken  up  Ethical  Cul- 
ture, and  a  good  many  have  gone  into  charitable 
and  philanthropic  work.     Some  have  made  a  re- 
ligion of  "  the  Single  Tax."     A  few  stray  ones 
are  interested  in   the  occult  mysteries    of    the 
Orient.     But  most  content  themselves  with  rail- 
ing at  the  defects  of  Christianity  and  the  errors^ 
of  religious  doctrine. 

Now,  my  purpose  is  not  to  point  out  the  weak- 
ness or  falsity  or  worthlessness  of  any  of  these 
cults.  Any  careful  observer  can  see,  however, 
that  none  of  these  or  all  of  them  together  satisfy 
the  spiritual  hunger  of  those  who  feed  upon 
them.  They  are  grapes,  but  they  are  sour 
grapes.  If  one  chooses  to  eat  them,  no  one  can 
say  him  nay.  But  I  wish  in  all  earnestness  to 
call  attention  to  one  of  the  consequences  of  this 
line  of  action,  which  possibly  they  have  not  con- 
sidered. These  persons  are  good,  honest,  up- 
right, honorable  men  and  women.  Even  when 
they  think  that  they  have  lost  sight  of  God  they 
still  do  actually  live  in  the  fear  of  God.     They 


276  THINK   OF  THE   CHILDREN. 

inherit  from  the  generation  whicli  went  before 
them  a  strennous  religious  sense.  Tiie  last  gener- 
ation may  have  been — and,  indeed,  was — noncriti- 
cal  and  largely  unenlightened  ;  but  it  possessed 
that  thing  which  is  the  characteristic  of  ortho- 
doxy— strong  religious  conviction.  The  convic- 
tion may  not  have  been  well  founded,  but  they 
thought  it  was,  and  they  fasliioned  their  own 
lives  and  the  lives  of  their  houseliolds  by  it. 
Our  generation  inlierited  from  them  much  of  the 
religiousness  upon  which  it  is  now  living. 
•^  But  we  also  have  children.  What  will  be  the 
effect  of  our  religious  or  non-religious  attitude 
u[)on  our  sons  and  daughters?  Take  a  case. 
Here  is  a  man,  a  lawyer,  a  physician,  a  business 
man,  between  forty  and  fifty  years  of  age.  He 
was  raised  in  a  Christian  household.  Before 
he  was  twenty  he  joined  the  Church.  He  did  so, 
being  moved  thereto  partly  by  that  emotion  of 
mystery  which  is  always  awakened  in  a  soul 
y(  when  it  stands  at  the  threshold  of  its  own  per- 
'  sonal  career,  and  moved  partly  by  the  earnest 
counsel  or  entreaty  of  his  father  and  mother, 
minister  and  Sunday-school  teacher.  For  a  con- 
siderable time  he  was  an  earnest  member  and 
communicant  in  Christ's  Church.  But  as  the 
years  have  gone  on  he  has  lost  many  illusions. 
He  has  been  confronted  with  intellectual  dif- 
ficulties. Little  by  little  he  has  drifted  away 
from  all  his  former  relations  to  religion.  His 
household    has   in   it   no   altar  and    no   shrine. 


,  THINK  OF  THE  CHILDREN.  277 

Pie  and  his  cliildren  sit  down  to  their  table^ 
■without  prayer,  and  arise  witliout  thanks.  On 
Sunday  he  reads  the  newspaper,  goes  driv- 
ing, and  allows  his  chiklren  to  do  as  they  please. 
The  question  I  wish  to  raise  and  hold  before  such 
a  man  is  ;  what  does  he  really  wish  his  chil- 
dren to  be,  religiously  ?  Does  he  wish  them  to  be 
without  God  in  the  world,  or  not?  Does  he  or 
does  he  not  believe  that  they  possess  the  same  >^ 
spiritual  faculty  and  capacity  which  he  pos-  ^ 
sesses  ?  Does  he  or  does  he  not  wish  that  faculty 
to  dwindle  in  them  and  disappear  for  lack  of 
use?  Will  the  spiritual  food  upon  which  he  is 
now  living,  and  which  he  confesses  to  be  unsatis- 
factory— will  it  be  wholesome  for  his  children? 
He  wishes  for  them  the  best  that  can  be,  both  in 
this  life  and  for  any  life  that  may  be  hereafter.    _ 

It  is  seriously  to  be  feared  that  we,  as  a  gener- 
ation, are  X3reparing  great  unhappiness,  as  well 
as  moral  confusion,  for  our  children  and  our 
children's  children.  I  do  not  disguise  the  fact 
that  a  new  religious  adjustment  is  necessary  in 
our  generation.  Many  things  which  our  fathers 
believed  in  we  cannot  believe.  Many  things 
which  they  felt  bound  to  do,  we  feel  bound  not 
to  do.  There  are  grave  defects  in  the  traditional 
theology.  There  are  grave  errors  in  the  tradi- 
tional way  of  regarding  the  Bible.  The  Church 
has  many  things  to  learn  and  many  things  to 
unlearn.  Nevertheless,  or  rather  for  those  very 
reasons,  it  would  seem  to  be  the  part  of  honor 


278  THINK   OF   THE  CHILDREN. 

and  good  sense,  as  well  as  tlie  part  of  affection 
and  solicitude  for  one's  children,  to  seriously 
re-examine  the  truth  of  God  as  shown  forth  in 
the  person  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  with  the 
hope  of  drawing  therefrom  a  spiritual  sustenance 
wliich  will  be  wliolesome  for  ourselves  and  which 
will  not  leave  our  children  Avith  a  bitter  taste  in 
their  mouths.  Jesus  offers  Himself  as  the  bread 
and  the  water  of  life.  There  is  no  doubt  that  to 
many  He  proves  but  a  dry  and  tasteless  thing. 
I  sympathize  deeply  with  the  man  who  has 
once  found  stay  and  stimulus  in  Him,  and  has 
for  any  reason  ceased  to  do  so.  He  is  in  an  evil 
case.  But  let  him  be  assured  that  it  is  because 
his  taste  has  become  sophisticated,  and  not  be- 
cause the  Bread  of  the  world  has  ceased  to  be 
wholesome.  In  the  fever  of  living  his  spiritual 
sense  has  become  disordered.  Let  him  seek  for 
recovery,  and  meanwhile,  in  the  name  of  all  that 
is  honorable  and  manly,  let  him  see  to  it  that 
his  children  do  not  become  diseased  or  starved 
through  his  action. 


XLVIII. 

GOD'S   BOUNTY. 

**  Ibe  left  not  bfmscif  wltbout  witness,  In  tbat  be  5(& 
Qoot),  an&  gave  ua  rain  from  beaven,  anD  fruitful  seasons, 
filling  our  bearts  witb  fooD  and  glaDness."— Acts  xiv.  17. 

Taking  the  world  altogether,  it  never  has  more 
than  about  three  months'  provision  of  grain  in 
its  garner.  The  failure  of  a  single  harvest  all 
over  the  world  would  depopulate  the  earth.  It 
has  never  enough  laid  up  at  any  one  time  to 
keep  it  from  starving  during  the  ensuing  four 
months.  It  would  seem  to  be  evident  that  God 
does  not  intend  that  men  should  become  inde- 
pendent of  Him.  They  cannot  get  enough  ahead 
at  any  one  time  to  set  up  for  themselves.  He 
feeds  them  from  time  to  time,  as  they  may  need. 
He  does  so  by  the  continual  recurring  succession 
of  seed-time  and  harvest. 

The  feeling  which  possesses  the  community  at 
Thanksgiving  time  springs  out  of  the  fact  that 
I  have  stated.  The  service  for  the  day  has  its 
root  in  the  soil.  It  blesses  God  "who  covereth 
the  heaven  with  clouds,  and  prepareth  the  rain 
for  the  earth,  and  maketh  the  grass  to  grow  upon 
tlie  mountains,  and  herbs  for  the  use  of  man ; 

879 


280  GOD'S  BOUNTY. 

who  givetli  fodder  unto  the  cattle,  and  filleth  the 
people  with  the  flour  of  wheat."  It  gives  "un- 
feigned thanks  and  praise  to  God  for  the  return 
of  seed-time  and  harvest,  for  the  increase  of  the 
ground,  and  the  gathering  in  of  the  fruits  there- 
of." It  rests  upon  the  idea  of  God's  constantly 
renewed  bounty.  Christianity  sees  in  all  this  the 
constant  witness  to  God.  This  was  Jesus'  view 
of  the  situation.  He  was  an  interpreter.  He  did 
not  make  facts.     He  uncovered  their  meaning. 

Now,  so  far,  God's  provision  for  man  has  never 
ceased  to  be  a  fact.  Harvests  have  failed  here 
and  there.  Droughts  have  oppressed  in  this 
place  and  that  place.  Famine  has  paid  visits. 
But  take  it  altogether,  seed-time  and  harvest, 
thus  far,  have  not  failed.  At  any  rate,  they  have 
never  failed  to  such  an  extent  that  the  provisions 
accumulated  in  the  world's  storehouse  have  not 
been  sufficient  to  tide  it  over.  Man's  table  has 
been  spread  with  abundance.  His  larder  has 
been  kept  filled. 

Nevertheless,  it  has  happened,  and  is  happen- 
ing all  the  time,  that  thousands  and  tens  of 
tliousands  are  hungry,  and  that  thousands  upon 
thousands  are  in  a  chronic  condition  of  anxiety 
and  narrowness  of  means  which  prevents  them 
from  being  thankful.  A  smaller  group,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  scale,  reach  out  their  hands  and 
draw  to  themselves  the  share  of  i)rovision  which, 
by  an  equal  distribution  of  things,  should  belong 
to  those  who  are  hungry.     The  motive  of  Thanks- 


GOD'S  BOUNTY.  281 

giving,  therefore,  is  difficult  to  catcli.  It  is  diffi- 
cult for  two  reasons.  First,  because  in  the  arti- 
ficial condition  of  society  in  which  we  live,  we 
are  so  remote  from  the  processes  by  which  God 
fills  the  world's  garner  with  grain.  And  in  the 
second  x^lace,  because  the  machinery  for  the  dis- 
tribution of  Ilis  bounty  has  not  succeeded  in  dis- 
tributing it  equitably.  It  is  hard  for  one  who 
lives  in  the  city  to  understand  the  song  of  the 
husbandman  and  the  vine-dresser.  The  good 
things  of  life  come  to  us  through  such  a  succes- 
sion of  middlemen,  and  through  such  a  compli- 
cated machinery,  that  we  find  difficulty  in  re- 
ferring them  to  their  true  source.  All  the 
machinery  of  trade  and  commerce,  and  transpor- 
tation and  law,  exists  for  the  purpose  ultimately 
of  "  moving  the  crops."  God  gives  them,  men 
distribute  them.  But  we,  receiving  them  at  the 
hands  of  the  last  agent,  find  it  hard  to  realize 
that  they  do  really  come  from  God.  We  find  it 
all  the  more  difficult  to  realize  this,  because,  for 
some  reason  or  other,  we  do  not  receive  our 
X)roper  proportion.  We  receive  too  much,  or  too 
little,  and  in  either  case,  the  emotion  of  thankful- 
ness will  not  arise.  Neither  the  man  who  has 
more  than  he  ought  to  have,  nor  he  who  has  less, 
is  ever  thankful.  They  cannot  be  in  the  nature 
of  the  case — for  either  they  have  abused  God's 
bounty,  or  thej  have  failed  to  receive  it. 

The  problem  which  is  being   considered   and 
discussed  more  than  any  other  in  our  generation, 


282  GOD'S  BOUNTY. 

is  that  of  "  the  distribution  of  wealth."  The  feel- 
ing is  widesf)read  that  it  is  not  properly  appor- 
tioned. There  is  no  question  of  its  abundance. 
Tiie  banquet  of  life  is  bountifully  spread,  but  it 
is  said  that  one  man  gorges  himself,  while  five 
men  cannot  secure  places  at  the  table.  A  hun- 
dred explanations  are  given  of  the  fact,  and  a 
hundred  remedies  are  suggested.  There  are  not 
a  few  who  arraign  the  whole  social,  commercial, 
and  industrial  system  in  terms  of  unmeasured 
denunciation.  Whole  libraries  of  books  upon 
economics  have  been  published.  Statistics  have 
been  collected  whose  columns  make  one's  head 
whirl.  The  problem  has  been  studied  in  the 
slums,  on  the  farms,  and  in  the  factories,  in  col- 
leges, in  churches.  Much  has  been  said  which 
are  but  wild,  whirling  words.  Much  of  folly  has 
been  sj)oken,  and  much  of  mischief. 

The  cures  proposed  have  been  often  fantastic, 
and  not  seldom  dangerous.  Many  a  rich  man 
has  been  rendered  uneasy  in  the  possession  of 
his  wealth.  Very  many  who  are  called  rich,  are 
troubled  in  their-  consciences.  No  one  has  as 
yet  even  suggested  the  practical  machinery  or 
methods  by  which  an  equitable  distribution  shall 
be  secured.  But,  in  spite  of  all  this,  the  spirit 
which  is  causing  tliese  obstinate  questionings  is 
a  true  spirit,  and  of  God.  It  is  not  anarchy,  and 
it  is  not  working  toward  anarchy.  It  is  steadily 
and  surely  working  toward  Justice  and  equity. 
It  is  not   working  rapidly,   but  it  is   working 


GOD'S   BOUNTY.  283 

surely.  Even  causes  -which  seem  to  be  remote 
therefrom  are  being  constantly  used  by  God  to 
bring  in  His  kingdom.  Says  Mr.  Edward  Atkin- 
son :  "Since  1865  greater  progress  lias  been 
made  in  providing  means  to  insure  the  proper 
distribution  of  the  necessities  of  life  than  in  all 
tiie  years  preceding."  Men  are  every  year  com- 
ing to  be  a  little  better  fed,  a  little  more  comfort- 
ably housed,  a  little  better  clad,  and  to  work  a 
little  shorter  time  each  day.  It  is  not  true  that 
"the  rich  are  growing  richer,  and  the  poor  are 
growing  poorer."  The  distribution  of  God's 
bounty  is  yet  very  far  from  that  which  He  would 
have,  but  it  is  better  than  it  ever  has  been  in 
the  past. 

It  is  desirable  on  all  accounts  that  this  move- 
ment toward  better  distribution  should  be 
carried  to  completion.  Of  course,  it  will  not  be 
bi-onght  to  its  ideal  x)erfection  in  our  day,  or  any- 
ihing  like  it.  But  some  advance  can  be  made, 
:ind  is  being  made.  The  problem  is,  How  to  dis- 
tribute God's  bounty?  It  is  a  life  and  death 
problem  foi*  societ3\  Two  or  three  solutions  are 
offered  as  final.  One  says:  "Let  eacli  man 
snatch  what  he  can  and  hold  on  to  it."  Another 
says.  "Let  the  State  take  possession  of  it  all,  and 
distribute  it  by  law."  The  great  majority  do  not 
accept  either  of  these  answers,  but  proceed  under 
the  actual  necessities  of  life.  They  recognize 
that  the  wise,  and  the  strong,  and  the  thrifty 
will  secure  more  than  the  foolish,  the  weak,  and 


284  GOD'S  BOUNTY. 

the  profligate.  They  think  they  ought  to  receive 
more.  They  will  not  endure  any  legal  arrange- 
ment which  will  render  tliese  virtues  impotent, 
or  j)ut  them  on  the  same  level  of  reward  as  their 
opposite  vices.  They  are  willing,  however,  that 
the  law  of  competition  should  be  modified  to  a 
very  great  degree  in  the  interest  of  society  as  a 
whole. 

Just  to  what  extent  this  modification  shall  be 
carried,  and  what  x^ractical  form  it  shall  take, 
is  the  question  which  is  in  our  day  being 
threshed  out  by  argument,  and  still  more  by 
experiment.  Many  contribute  to  the  solution 
who  do  not  intend  to  do  so.  It  is  said  that  the 
elder  Mr.  Vanderbilt,  while  amassing  a  fortune 
for  himself,  incidentally  reduced  the  cost  of 
bringing  a  barrel  of  flour  from  the  West  to  tlie 
P^ast  from  two  dollars  to  twenty-five  cents.  If 
this  be  true,  it  is  probable  that  this  improvement 
could  not  have  been  secured  at  any  cheaper  rate 
than  to  allow  him  to  pile  up  his  own  millions  while 
he  was  doing  it.  Mr.  Debs  said  the  other  day 
that  he  would  organize  and  lead  no  more  strikes. 
It  may  well  be  that  the  expense  of  his  trial  to  the 
State  and  the  pain  of  his  imprisonment  to  him- 
self was  the  cheapest  terms  upon  which  the  influ- 
ence of  such  a  man  could  be  secured  for  the  real 
good  of  society.  In  fact  the  good  that  men  do 
is  not  always  the  good  which  they  intend  to  do, 
or  that  they  think  they  are  doing.  But  good 
they  do  all  the  same. 


GOD'S  BOUNTY.  285 

The  problem  is,  How  to  distribute  God's 
bounty  I  The  first  condition  to  its  solution  is 
that  men  shall  recognize  that  the  good  things  of 
life  are  God's  bounty.  "  Labor  "  is  fond  of  say- 
ing :  "  We  create  wealth  by  our  hands,  therefore 
it  is  ours."  "Capital  "  is  fond  of  saying  :  "We 
create  wealth  by  our  brains, therefore  it  is  ours." 

They  are  both  wrong.  Neither  of  them  creates 
wealth.  It  is  poured  out  from  the  bounteous 
hand  of  God.  If  it  be  objected  that  this  is  intro- 
ducing the  religious  sentiment  into  a  purely  ma- 
terial problem,  I  reply,  the  problem  never  has 
been  solved,  never  will  be,  except  as  this  senti- 
ment is  satisfied.  Said  Mr.  Lincoln  :  "  Nothing 
is  ever  settled  until  it  is  settled  right."  The 
reason  is,  right  is  the  most  imj^erious  force  in 
God's  universe,  for  it  is  God  Himself.  It  will 
overturn  and  overturn  and  overturn,  until  He 
comes  whose  right  it  is  to  reign.  Only  in  pro- 
portion as  men  realize  that  they  are  all  alike 
children  seated  at  their  Father's  table,  will 
they  cease  to  snatch,  and  will  begin  each  to 
serve  another  before  himself. 


X 


XLIX. 
THE  TYRANNY  OF  BUSINESS. 
"  ^be  love  of  mones  is  tbe  root  ot  all  evtl."— i  Timothy 

vi.  10. 

The  apostle  here  makes  a  very  sweeping  asser- 
tion. It  is  probably  not  precisely  correct,  and 
was  not  intended  by  its  author  to  be  taken  for  the 
face  of  it.  But  it  comes  nearer  the  truth  than 
anything  else  that  could  be  said  on  the  subject. 
If  the  love  of  money  is  not  the  origin  of  all  evil, 
it  is  without  doubt  the  origin  of  more  evil  than 

_can  be  referred  to  any  other  source.  It  is  no  sin 
to  be  rich.  Abraham  was  rich.  St.  Bernard  was 
rich.  George  Washington  was,  if  not  the  richest, 
at  any  rate  one  of  the  two  or  three  richest  men 

in  America,     It  is  even  possible  for  a  rich  man 

to  enter  into  tlie  kingdom  of  beaven.  It  is  pos- 
sible, but  not  easy.  If  he  do  so  at  all  he  does  it 
like  a  camel  which  squeezes  through  a  gate  too 
narrow  for  it,  which  is  likely  to  scrape  off  all  of 
its  burden  and  some  of  its  fat  if  it  persists  in 
squeezing  through.  The  apostle  does  not  say 
that  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil,  but  that  the 
lust  for  money  is. 
There  is  no  country  in  the  world  where  there 

286 


THE  TYRANXY  OF  BUSINESS.  287 

goes  on  as  fierce  and  relentless  a  scramble  to  get 
rich  as  in  the  United  States.  There  is  very  good 
reason  for  this — or,  to  speak  more  accurately, 
there  are  reasonable  explanations  of  it.  In  other 
countries  and  in  other  times  it  has  been  possible 
for  men  to  secure  what  they  valued  most  in  life 
without  being  rich.  If  it  were  social  pre-emi- 
nence which  they  valued,  they  reached  it  by 
birth.  If  it  were  power  they  coveted,  they  could 
attain  it  by  strength  of  character  and  brains.  In 
the  United  States  there  is  practically  only  one 
standard  of  success.  The  man  who  gets  rich  suc- 
ceeds. The  man  who  does  not  get  rich  is  counted 
more  or  less  a  failure.  Money  will  buy  things  in 
America  which  it  will  buy  nowhere  else.  It  will 
buy  social  consideration ;  it  will  buy  power. 
And  these  are  the  two  most  alluring  objects  of 
man's  ambition.  Speaking  broadly,  there  is  no 
avenue  to  social  success  except  wealth.  It  is 
true  that  in  some  places,  pre-eminently  in  this 
city,  it  is  possible  for  one  who  has  a  place  in 
society  to  retain  that  place  after  he  loses  his 
money.  But  even  with  these  exceptions,  the 
general  statement  may  be  made  that  one  can 
only  hold  his  place  so  long  as  he  is  able  to 
pay  for  it.  This  fact,  and  others  which  co- 
operate with  it,  have  led  to  a  widespread, 
fierce,  persistent,  and  unresting  struggle  for 
money,  the  like  of  which  the  Avorld  has  never 
seen.  It  lays  a  burden  too  heavy  to  be  borne 
upon  men's  bodies  and  upon  their  souls.     Thou- 


288  THE  TYRANNY   OF  BUSINESS. 

sands  who  are  in  tlie  midst  of  it  are  sick  and 
tired  to  death  of  the  iinceasing  toil.  But  they  see 
no  way  to  escape  from  it,  and  they  see  no  way  to 
attain  the  ends  of  life  if  they  relax.  The  struggle 
for  wealth  has  come  to  be  an  overshadowing 
blight  ux^on  high  and  noble  things.  It  is  wear- 
ing out  men's  hearts,  wearing  out  their  bodies, 
racking  their  brains,  and  becoming  an  intolerable 
tyranny.  It  is  not  confined  to  any  jDarticular 
class ;  from  the  greatest  to  the  least  we  are  all 
together  in  the  same  scramble. 

Now,  at  least  some  of  the  evils  of  this  intense 
longing  for  wealth  need  only  be  mentioned  in 
order  to  be  seen.  What  is  the  explanation,  for 
\  instance,  of  the  bad  government  of  cities,  which 
we  all  agree  in  deploring?  The  notion  is  often 
entertained  that  it  is  because  the  great  mass  of 
well-meaning  and  well-wishing  citizens  are  out- 
witted and  captured  by  a  small  company  of  con- 
scienceless politicians  ;  that  people  desire  good 
government,  but  are  not  able  to  secure  it.  The 
theory  does  not  fit  the  fact.  The  true  explanation 
of  the  political  evil  is  so  simple  and  palpable  that 
men  are  not  willing  to  see  it.  \  The  reason  why  a 
^  city  is  badly  administered  is  because  its  indi- 
-^^vidual  citizens  are  too  much  engrossed  in  making 
money  to  find  time  or  thought  or  energy  to  cure 
the  evils  of  which  they  complain. \  At  this  mo- 
ment a  city  is  convulsed  by  a  conflict  between  a 
great  corporation  and  the  mass  of  the  people 
upon  a  question  of  money.     It  is.  Shall  the  cor- 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  BUSINESS.  289 

poratioii  carry  the  people  along  the  streets  at  five 
cents  or  eiglit  cents  a  head  ?  It  is  a  question  of 
money  ;  of  money  on  both  sides.  A  corporation 
which  hists  to  get  rich  confronts  a  people  who 
are  busy  getting  rich.  The  question  has  merits 
on  both  sides.  If  it  be  approached  as  a  pure 
commercial  question  there  is  much  to  be  said  on 
either  side.  But  tlie  saddening  thing  about  the 
situation  is  its  indication  that  a  corporation  may 
do  as  it  lists  in  violating  all  equities,  in  corrup- 
ting the  springs  of  political  purity,  so  long  as 
it  does  not  immediately  and  directly  touch  the 
pockets  of  the  people.  The  question  at  issue  can 
never  be  settled  so  long  as  the  battle  rages  about 
the  present  immediate  issue. 

Another  of  the  evils  from  the  same  spring  is'v^ 
the  lack  of  leisure  which  it  entails.  Nothing  is'x 
more  pathetic  to  the  lover  of  his  kind  than  to 
watch  the  faces  of  men  of  business  where  they 
most  do  congregate.  They  are  eager,  drawn, 
tense,  full  of  anxious  lines,  restless,  unsatisfied. 
And  the  pity  of  it  all  is  that  thej  themselves 
deeply  long  for  rest.  Every  pastor  has  heard 
the  groans  of  many  a  father  of  a  family  and  pro- 
vider of  a  household  for  that  he  is  fastened  like 
a  horse  in  a  treadmill  in  a  set  of  conditions  and 
necessities  from  which  he  sees  no  hope  of  escape. 

In  the  midst  of  it  all,  high  and  noble  things 
languish  and  perish  for  lack  of  space.     There  is  v, 
no  opportunity  for  interchange  of  human  kind- 
liness, there  is  no  space   for  good    fellowship. 


290  THE  TYRANNY   OF  BUSINESS. 

We  are  all   together  tied  to    the  swift  rolling 
V  chariot  of  money.     A  few  draw  the  chariot ;  one 
here  and  there  rides  in  it ;  the  rest  are  dragged 
after  it  by  ever  lengthening  cords. 

But  to  what  purpose  these  wails  ?  Why  revile 
and  abuse  a  condition  of  things  which  all  agree 
to  be  incax:)able  of  change  ?  Our  real  wants  are 
increasing  day  by  day.  Our  standard  of  com- 
fort is  ever  rising  higher  and  higher.  Artificial 
wants  are  being  ever  newly  created.  Trade  and 
commerce  deliberately  stimulate  artificial  wants 
in  order  that  trade  and  commerce  may  have  busi- 
ness to  do  in  satisfying  them.  Why,  then,  cry 
out  against  a  condition  of  things  which  is  in  the 
very  nature  of  the  case  hopeless  ? 

I  cry  out  because  the  case  is  not  hopeless. 
There  are  always  a  few  who  can  see  clearly 
enough  to  understand  that  a  man's  happiness 
"  consisteth  not  in  the  abundnnce  of  the  things 
which  he  hath."  \  When  Professor  Agassiz  was 
advised  by  some  of  his  shrewd  business  friends 
to  turn  to  account  his  marvelous  scientific  knowl- 
edge, and  thereby  make  himself  rich,  he  re- 
V  yp'i®^'  "I  have  no  time  to  make  money."  One 
^  can  fancy  the  bewildered  look  upon  the  faces  of 
his  friends.  He  was  not  a  poor  man,  he  had 
enough  ;  but  there  was  something  tliat  he  valued 
more  than  money,  and  that  was  the  opportunity 
to  do  the  things  he  wanted.;  One  of  the  sanest 
and  most  distinguished  men  of  this  city  is  a  poor 
man.     His  household  is  simple  and  frugal.     He 


THE  TYRANNY  OF  BUSINESS.  291 

has  a  modest  income.  There  is  no  Inxnry  in  his 
house,  and  no  abundance  on  his  table,  but  it  is 
to  his  house  that  every  man  of  distinction  and 
woman  of  genius  who  visit  the  city  turn  their 
faces,  as  drawn  by  a  natural  attraction.  It 
is  there  that  they  are  entertained  "with  plain 
living  and  high  thinking."  There  is  peace  and 
rest  and  comfort,  outside  the  clamor  and 
struggle  of  the  streets,  the  shop,  and  the  office.^ 
Probably  the  most  Christlike  minister  of  Christ 
that  this  country  has  seen,  the  man  who  did 
more  than  any  other  to  set  the  truth  upon  a  firm 
foundation  and  to  relieve  the  wants  of  the  poor,  A 
was  Dr.  Muhlenberg.  When  he  died  he  left  an 
estate  of  thirty  dollars,  but  he  left  a  name  which 
will  be  fragrant  for  many  a  day.  ^ 

It  is  possible,  and  it  is  wise,  and  there  is  no 
other  wisdom  in  the  premises.  St.  Paul  was 
right,  "  Having  food  and  raiment  let  us  be  con- 
tent." For  "they  that  will  be  rich  fall  into 
temptation  and  a  snare,  into  many  foolish  and 
hurtful  lusts  which  drown  men.  For  the  love  of 
money  is  the  root  of  all  evil,  and  they  that  covet 
for  it  pierce  themselves  through  with  many  sor- 
rows." 


THE  LAST  SCENE. 

**1bc  F3atb  appointed  a  Dag,  In  tbc  wbicb  be  will  ju&ge 
tbc  worlD  in  rigbtcousness,  bg  tbat  man  wbom  be  batb 
orDaineD :  vvbereot  be  batb  given  assurance  unto  all  men, 
in  tbat  be  batb  raiseD  bim  from  tbe  DeaD."— Acts  xvii.  31. 

A  VERY  large  section  of  the  Christian  world 
speaks  of  the  present  season  as  the  Advent. 
During  these  four  weeks  the  thought  of  the 
Church  is  directed  to  the  "dim,  far-off  event 
toward  which  the  whole  creation  moves."  At 
all  seasons  of  the  year  it  speaks  of  righteousness 
and  temperance,  but  just  now  it  dwells  upon 
judgment  to  come.  It  is  worth  while  to  ask,  just 
exactly  what  does  the  Christinn  world  mean  by 
this  phrase  ?  Is  it  only  a  theological  figment,  or 
does  it  designate  any  actual  event  in  the  future 
which  we  may  reasonably  expect  to  occur?  And 
if  so,  what  is  the  ground  of  our  belief  in  such 
a  catastrophe  ?  To  this  we  may  answer  in  the 
most  definite  way  that  the  Christian  world  does 
expect  an  end  of  all  thiugs  ;  and  that  that  end 
is  correlated  in  some  way  with  an  ethical  separa- 
tion which  is  being  prepared  for  by  all  the  per- 
sons and  all  the  events  which  occupy  the  stage 


THE  LAST  SCENE.  293 

up  to  the  period  of  that  event,  "  All  the  world's 
a  stage  and  men  and  women  players."  The 
stage  is  a  marvelous  extended  one  :  the  players 
are  so  numerous  they  bewilder  the  imagination  : 
the  piece  is  one  which  stretches  over  such  an 
incalculable  period  of  history  that  it  is  always 
difficult  to  make  out  the  plot  and  to  distinguish 
the  hero  from  the  villain.  But  the  mark  of  the 
religious  man  is  a  profound  conviction  that  in  it 
all  there  is  a  plot.  He  cannot  bring  himself  to 
believe  that  things  happen  in  a  meaningless  way, 
as  they  would  in  a  world  like  "  Alice's  Wonder- 
land." Things  mean  something.  They  go  some- 
where. To  the  religious  mind  it  is  simply  incred- 
ible that  generation  after  generation  of  human 
beings  should  rise  u^)  and  lie  down  without  any 
definite  purpose  either  for  humanity  as  a  whole 
or  for  the  individuals  who  compose  it.  It  would 
seem,  indeed,  that  every  sane  man  must  believe 
that  tliere  is  some  reasonable  and  intelligible 
purpose  toward  which  all  things  move. 

At  this  point  Christian  belief  takes  it  up.  It 
is  not  content  to  allow  the  belief  in  judgment  to 
remain  vague  and  formless.  It  asserts  a  time,  a 
place,  a  method,  and  a  Judge.  But  the  grand 
finale  is  always  thought  of  from  the  actors'  point 
of  view.  Each  of  us  is  now  playing  his  part,  but 
we  will  be  dead  and  turned  to  dust  many  a  thou- 
sand centuries,  probably,  before  the  last  act. 
Shall  we  have  anything  to  do  with  that  ?  And 
shall  we  be  waked  up  to  receive  our  pay  ?    We 


294  THE  LAST   SCENE. 

expect  personally  to  be  concerned  in  the  trans- 
action, and  it  will  be  a  very  serious  business.  If 
we  could  be  quite  sure  that  the  same  standard 
of  judgment  would  hold  good  then  which  holds 
good  now,  we  would  not  be  very  greatly  disturbed. 
In  point  of  fact,  at  present,  most  of  us  are  judged 
by  the  world  better  than  we  really  judge  our- 
selves. If  we  could  be  sure  that  the  world's  ver- 
dict about  us  would  stand  forever,  we  would  be 
pretty  well  content  with  it.  It  is  not  all  that  we 
wish,  but  it  is  so  much  better  than  we  deserve 
that  we  would  rather  let  the  present  verdict 
stand  than  to  run  the  risk  of  having  it  opened. 

But  the  teaching  of  Scripture,  to  the  truth  of 
which  our  deepest  soul  assents,  is  that  many,  if 
not  most,  of  the  verdicts  passed  upon  men  by 
their  fellows  will  be  modified  or  reversed.  Many 
whom  we  pronounce  good  will  certainly  be  pro- 
nounced bad.  Many  whom  the  world  has  con- 
demned will  be  found  to  be  saints.  This  is  a 
commonplace  of  fiction  and  of  the  moralist.  But 
it  has  a  very  serious  side.  It  is  always  asserted 
by  the  Christian  Scripture  that  the  final  assort- 
ment of  men  will  be  a  perfectly  equitable  one, 
and  also  that  it  will  be  recognized  as  equitable 
both  by  the  subject  of  it  and  by  the  spectator. 
The  reason  is  that  the  decision  will  be  based  not 
only  upon  the  facts  of  the  case,  but  upon  all  the 
facts  which  bear  upon  the  case.  The  trouble  with 
our  judgments  of  men  is  that  we  have  not  the 
facts  before  us.     We  are  compelled   to  decide 


THE  LAST   SCENE.  295 

upon  incomplete  evidence.  But  we  do  not  rest 
with  this  as  an  ultimatum.  We  are  quite  aware 
that  we  neither  judge  nor  are  judged  in  right- 
eousness. 

With  regard  to  the  final  decision  Christianity 
teaches  two  things  as  of  the  essence  of  its  belief. 
The  first  is  that  these  decisions  will  be  absolutely 
right  ones.  The  assignment  to  each  of  what  he 
must  bear  and  what  he  may  receive  will  be 
arranged  with  the  most  minute  exactness.  Some 
will  be  beaten  with  many  stripes.  Some  will  be 
beaten  with  few  stripes.  Some  will  not  be  beaten 
at  all.  To  one  will  be  given  authority  over  five 
cities,  and  to  another  over  ten.  In  a  word,  each 
man  will  receive  judgment  corresponding  with 
absolute  truthfulness  to  what  he  is. 

The  second  thing  is  that  the  judgment  will  be 
an  essentially  humane  judgment.  That  is  to  say 
it  will  in  every  case  be  a  decision  which  will  be 
accepted  as  right  by  all  concerned,  for  the  rea- 
son that  it  will  be  the  judgment  which  humanity 
itself  would  decree  in  any  case  where  humanity 
could  see  all  the  facts.  When  the  judgment  is 
set  "the  books  will  be  opened."  "The  secrets 
of  all  hearts  shall  be  disclosed."  Acting  upon 
the  information  which  will  then  lie  open  to  the 
sight  of  all  who  choose  to  look,  the  verdict  will 
be  passed  upon  every  liuman  being.  It  will  be 
absolutely  right  from  the  human  standpoint. 
To  guarantee  this  it  is  to  be  conducted  by  "that 
Man  whom  He  hath  ordained  and  whereof  He 


296  THE  LAST   SCENE. 

liatli  given  assurance  in  tliat  He  hath  raised  Him 
from  the  dead."  Jndgnient  is  to  be  given  by  the 
"  Son  of  Man."  It  is  intrusted  to  him  because 
He  is  the  Son  of  Man.  Speaking  reverently,  it 
is  one  of  tlie  ideas  underlying  the  belief  in  the 
incarnation  that  God  could  not  fairly  judge  men 
without  Himself  first  becoming  man.  Because 
He  shall  have  been  in  His  own  person  "  touched 
with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities"  we  may  be 
sure  that  He  will  deal  fairly  not  only  with  our 
sins,  but  with  our  temptations,  "inasmuch  as 
He  Himself  was  in  all  points  tempted,  even  as 
we  are." 

The  belief  in  the  final  judgment,  and  in  this 
kind  of  a  final  judgment,  is  directly  contrary  to  a 
manner  of  looking  at  life  which  is  very  common. 
There  are  not  a  few  who  recognize  a  dramatic 
purpose  in  the  movement  of  the  world.  They  do 
not  deny  that  it  may  lead  up  to  a  denouement. 
But  they  do  not  conceive  themselves  personally 
to  be  concerned  with  this  final  event.  They 
expect  a  steadfast  progress  in  the  race,  and  they 
hold  it  the  duty  of  every  man  to  contribute  what 
he  may  to  the  future  well-being  of  humanity. 
They  look  for  their  own  immortality  and  their 
own  judgment  in  the  generations  that  come  after 
them.  The  question  which  arises,  however,  when 
one  hears  this  theory  advanced,  is,  what  stimulus 
and  what  restraint  does  it  provide  for  the  in- 
dividual who  is  living  now  ?  That  is  to  say,  the 
multitude  who  are  absorbed  and  well-nigh  over- 


THE   LAST  SCENE.  297 

whelmed  in  the  constant  strnggle?  wlio  have 
(hiily  needs  and  narrow  cares  ?  who  neither 
have  the  leisure  nor  the  inclination  to  consider 
the  precise  role  they  are  called  npon  to  i)]ay  in 
the  great  drama  of  humanity  ?  Does  it  make 
much  difference  to  a  man  who  is  tempted  to  sin 
to  say  to  him,  If  you  yield  you  will  infinites- 
imally  retard  the  progress  of  humanity  a  thou- 
sand years  from  now?  When  one  is  confronted 
with  a  hard  duty,  does  it  encourage  him  much  to 
say,  If  you  do  it  the  race  will  be  a  trifle  further 
along  ten  thousand  years  from  now  than  if  you 
shrink  from  doing  it  ?  Does  it  offer  any  consola- 
tion to  those  who  are  in  grief,  any  hope  to  those 
who  are  bereaved,  any  forgiveness  to  the  sinful, 
or  any  rest  to  those  who  are  weary  or  heavy 
laden  ?  It  would  be  foolish  to  deny  that  more 
than  a  few  noble  souls  do  take  this  view  of  per- 
sonal and  future  existence.  But  it  is  true  also 
that  these  would  be  high  and  noble  souls  in  any 
case,  and  that  their  goodness  is  altogether  inde- 
pendent of  their  religious  belief. 

The  Christian  belief  on  the  other  hand  is  that 
the  dramatic  tendency  which  all  thoughtful  men 
must  see  in  human  history,  not  only  leads  to  a 
finale  at  some  point  in  the  future,  but  also  that 
when  that  time  comes  the  judgment  must  and 
will  go  back  again  over  tlie  whole  ground  Avliich 
has  been  traversed,  must  pick  up  the  individuals 
one  by  one,  from  the  greatest  to  the  most  insignifi- 
cant, and  deal  with  each,  not  alone  according  to  the 


298  THE   LAST   SCENE. 

jmrt  wliicli  he  lias  played  or  failed  to  play  in  the 
movement  of  the  whole  drama,  but  also  as  to  the 
part  which  he  has  played  concerning  himself. 
Besides  tlie  great  actors  who  can  be  seen  to  carry 
forward  the  movement  of  the  piece  npon  the 
stage,  there  are  myriads  of  snpernnmeraries — 
"soldiers,  i^easants,  citizens."  Within  each 
one  of  these  has  gone  forward  a  j)ersonal  drama 
quite  as  intense  and  of  far  more  importance 
to  him  than  the  movement  on  the  great  stage. 
Who  shall  say  that  it  is  not  equally  important 
in  the  eyes  of  God  i 


LI, 

THE  CHRISTIAN  CHILD. 

"  anO  be  went  Down  witb  tbcm,  an&  came  to  1Vla3aretb, 
an&  was  subject  unto  tbcm.  .  .  BnD  Jesus  Increased  in 
wls&om  anD  stature,  auD  in  favor  witb  ©oD  anD  man."— 

— Luke  ii.  53. 

The  Christ-child  was  like  all  other  children  in 
this  particular,  that  "he  learned  wisdom  by  the 
tilings  which  he  suffered."  It  is  clear  that  from 
the  start  He  was  not  exemjDted  from  that  first 
and  keenest  form  of  suffering  into  which  chUdren 
enter.  He  was  subject  to  His  parents,  and  He 
went  to  school.  These  two  things  are  the  first 
crosses  children  bear — submission  to  authority, 
and  learning  under  compulsion.  The  subsequent 
perfection  of  His  character,  speaking  humanly, 
was  due  to  the  perfection  of  His  early  training. 
All  His  knowledge  about  religion  cannot  be  re- 
ferred to  His  teachers,  but  the  beginning  of  it 
certainly  must  be. 

When  all  the  world  has  before  it,  as  at  Christ- 
mas tide,  the  picture  of  the  Divine  Child  is  a  good 
time  to  ask  the  parents'  attention  to  the  ques- 
tion, "  How  are  you  rearing  your  child  ?  "  Noth- 
ing is  more  perplexing  than  the  question  how 
and  what  we  shall  have  our  children  taught  in 

290 


300  THE   CHRISTIAN   CHILD. 

the  region  of  religion.  Shall  we  teach  them  our- 
selves ?  Shall  we  send  them  to  Sunday  school 
and  have  them  taught  there  ?  Shall  we  leave 
them  without  teaching  altogether?  These  three 
lines  of  action  exhaust  the  situation.  Either 
the  parent  must  take  charge  of  this  or  he  must 
find  somebody  else  to  do  it  for  him,  or  he  must 
leave  it  undone.  This  last  we  fear  is  the  course 
ordinarily  pursued. 

If  one  had  it  in  his  power  to  stoj)  a  hundred 
men  and  women  haphazard  on  the  street,  and 
catechise  them  about  "  those  things  which  a 
Christian  ought  to  know  and  believe  to  his  soul's 
health,"  he  would  probably  educe  very  few,  and 
those  very  unsatisfactory,  answers.  The  truth  is 
the  average  man  knows  almost  nothing  about  re- 
ligions matters.  This  is  due  to  the  fact  that  he 
has  not  been  taught.  The  ordinary  father  and 
mother  are  anxious  enough  about  what  they  call 
the  "  education"  of  their  child.  They  send  him 
to  the  best  schools  they  can  find.  They  see  to  it 
that  the  lessons  there  set  are  learned.  The  child 
is  not  very  much  consulted  about  the  matter.  If 
he  likes  his  lesson  well  and  good  ;  if  he  doesn't 
like  it  he  is  likely  to  have  to  learn  it  anyway. 
This  is  because  the  value  of  a  secular  education  in 
after-life  is  clearly  seen  and  acted  upon.  But  what 
shall  be  done  for  the  moral  and  religious  teach- 
ing ?  The  Roman  Catholic  Church  has  much 
good  ground  to  stand  upon  when  it  insists  that 
real  teaching  in  religion  and  morals  must  go  on 


THE  CHRISTIAN  CHILD.  301 

side  bj^  side  with  secular  education.  There  are 
ver}^  few  wlio  would  call  in  question  this  general 
statement.  Everybody  admits  in  theory  the  value 
of  religious  training  for  children.  Almost  every- 
body questions,  however,  whether  the  Church 
can  safely  be  trusted  to  conduct  that  training. 
I  am  among  those  who  question  this.  But  if 
the  Church  cannot,  who  can,  and  who  will? 

The  present  situation  among  American  Protes- 
tants is  unsatisfactory  to  the  very  last  degree. 
It  amounts  to  about  this  :  If  a  child  is  naturally 
religious,  and  is  fortunate  enough  to  pick  up  here 
and  there  a  few  unrelated  beliefs  and  facts,  all 
very  well.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  be  the  aver- 
age child,  which  is  not  hungry,  as  a  rule,  for 
learning  of  any  kind,  and  so  fails  to  pick  up 
any  knowledge  of  religion,  all  is  equally  well. 
As  a  rule  we  fear  that  parents  do  not  give  any 
real  attention  to  the  religious  training  of  their 
children.  In  the  majority  of  cases  they  are  in- 
trusted to  the  Sunday  school.  The  Sunday-school 
teacher  does  the  best  that  he  or  she  can,  but  the 
best  is  very  little.  Few  realize  how  little  it  is. 
There  are  no  better  men  and  women  in  the  world 
than  the  average  Sunday-school  teachers,  but 
their  goodness  does  not  make  it  any  the  more 
true  that  the  children  under  their  care  are  really 
taught.  They  cannot  be  taught  in  the  nature  of 
the  case.  In  the  first  place  the  teachers  are  not 
persons  who  are  trained  to  teach.  And  in  the 
second  place  they  have,  as  a  rule,  the  very  haziest 


302  THE   CHRISTIAN  CHILD. 

notions  about  what  they  wish  to  teach.  And  in 
the  third  place  the  children  are  not  under  their 
care  long  enough  to  be  really  taught  anything. 
The  good  which  the  Sunday-school  teaclier  does, 
and  which  is  an  incalculable  good,  is  effected  by 
the  contagion  of  his  or  her  own  personality.  The 
child,  through  them,  conies  to  love  goodness  be- 
cause he  has  learned  to  love  a  good  man  or 
woman.  But  this  love  of  goodness  does  not 
teach  him  the  truths  of  religion. 

Is  not  the  real  explanation  of  the  situation  to 
be  found  in  the  fact  that  there  is  an  almost  uni- 
versal skepticism  as  to  whether  there  really  is 
any  such  thing  as  religious  truth  ?  That  there 
is  religious  feeling  nobody  questions.  No  one 
doubts  that  there  is  a  difference  between  good- 
ness and  badness,  and  that  goodness,  when  it  is 
carried  high  enough,  becomes  emotional  in  its 
character,  and  therefore  is  called  religion.  But 
is  it  not  also  a  fact  that  people  generally  are 
skeptical  as  to  whether  or  not  our  religion  rests 
upon  any  coherent  set  of  facts  or  truths  which 
are  capable  of  being  taught  to  children  ?  It  is 
not  difficult  to  see  why  such  a  widespread  skep- 
ticism should  come  into  existence.  It  has  been 
caused  more  by  the  foolish  and  wicked  division 
among  Christians  than  by  any  other  one  cause. 
There  are  more  than  a  hundred  churches,  each 
one  holding  out  a  more  or  less  formulated  set  of 
beliefs  and  declaring  that  these  are  they  which 
a  child  in  a  Christian  land  should  be  taught  as 


THE   CHRISTIAN  CHILD.  303 

truths.  But  each  one  believes  that  the  other 
ninety-nine  are  false,  or  at  least  faulty,  in 
their  statements.  The  great  world  takes  them 
at  their  word.  It  says  to  the  divided  Church, 
in  effect,  something  like  this:  "You  cannot 
secure  the  agreement  of  anything  like  the  ma- 
jority of  yourselves  to  the  doctrines  which  you 
say  my  child  should  be  taught.  Each  of  you 
says  that  the  other  one's  statements  are  incorrect. 
I  think  very  probably  you  are  right.  At  any 
rate,  I  am  puzzled  as  to  what  I  shall  teach  my 
child." 

It  is  the  strangest  thing  in  the  world  that 
Christian  people  do  not  seem  at  all  to  realize  the 
evils  which  arise  out  of  their  wretched  divisions. 
It  is  not  alone  that  the  schism  renders  impo- 
tent the  whole  Christian  community  to  do  those 
things  which  it  could  do  if  it  acted  in  harmony, 
but  it  also  has  led  to  an  utter  confusion  in  the 
world's  mind  as  to  the  nature  and  reality  of  re- 
ligious truth.  Of  course,  we  all  understand  that 
behind  all  the  rival  systems  of  doctrine  there  is  a 
catholic  creed  which  we  all  believe,  and  which  we 
are  persuaded  is  founded  upon  facts.  But  this 
creed  has  become  so  overlaid  and  hidden  out  of 
sight  by  the  secondary  and  trivial  doctrines  of  de- 
nominations, that  the  world  has  nearly  forgotten 
that  there  is  such  a  thing  in  existence.  The 
Church  herself  is  grievously  to  blame  in  this 
particular. 

But  two  wrongs  do  not  make  a  right.     If  the 


304  THE   CHRISTIAN  CHILD. 

Church  has  been  foolish  and  quarrelsome,  and  is 
self-seeking  in  each  of  its  divisions,  that  is  no 
reason  why  the  people  living  in  a  Christian  world 
must  forget  or  ignore  that  Christianity  must  plaj^ 
a  large  part  in  their  lives  and  the  lives  of  their 
children.  The  religious  faculty  of  a  child  is  a 
thing  which  must  be  taken  account  of.  It  must 
be  given  something  wholesome  to  feed  upon  or 
else  it  will  either  fill  itself  with  hurtful  things  or 
will  starve  and  pine  away. 

The  tilings  which  a  child  should  be  taught 
are  really  not  difficult  to  find.  The  Creed,  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  the  Ten  Commandments,  and  the 
Sermon  on  the  Mount  are  facts.  They  have 
widespread  implications,  and  all  persons  will  by 
no  means  agree  as  to  exactly  what  is  implicated 
in  each  or  all  of  them.  But  these  are  things 
which  the  religious  sense  of  a  nineteenth  century 
child  will  receive  and  feed  upon  and  assimilate. 
The  outline  of  the  religion  under  whose  influence 
we  live  should  at  least  be  taught  to  every  man 
who  lives  within  its  influence.  No  one  who 
comes  to  age  without  this  information  ought  to 
be  called  an  intelligent  person.  He  is  not  in- 
telligent. He  is  wanting  in  knowledge  which 
ought  to  be  at  every  man's  finger  ends.  Nor, 
again,  is  one  who  comes  to  age  with  his  religious 
faculties  empty  a  safe  member  of  the  community. 
He  is  a  peril  to  himself,  and  he  is  always  liable  to 
become  a  menace  to  his  fellows.  No  man  who 
is  destitute  of  religion  is  a  safe  man,  for  the 


THE   CHRISTIAN  CHILD.  305 

simple  reason  that  lie  is  not  an  entirely  sane  man. 
He  is,  to  use  a  common  plirase,  "  wanting."  He 
is  wanting  in  that  very  faculty  or  sense  which 
ought  to  dominate  and  guide  all  the  others. 

I  do  not  enter  here  upon  any  detailed  state- 
ment of  how  such  teaching  should  be  given  to  a 
child.  One  thing  is  clear,  that  any  man  who  has 
begotten  and  any  woman  who  has  borne  a  child 
are  faithless  to  their  highest  duty  if  they  will- 
ingly permit  any  capacity  born  with  that  child 
to  perish  for  lack  of  cultivation,  or  to  go  astray 
from  being  badly  trained.  Practically,  the  diffi- 
culties in  the  way  are  not  great.  Such  as  they 
are,  they  will  disappear  before  the  earnest  wish 
of  those  to  whom  God  has  given  children,  to  do 
for  those  children  in  every  regard  "as  they  shall 
answer  unto  God." 


LIT. 

THE  CHRIST  CHILD. 

"  XTbe  second  man  Is  tbe  XorD  from  beavctt."— i  Corin- 
thians XV.  47. 

Two  babes  have  been  born  into  this  world  in 
whom  the  whole  race  has  been  concerned.  The 
first  was  "Adam,"  the  second  was  Jesus.  The 
first  grew  to  be  human,  the  second  came  to  know 
that  He  was  divine.  In  the  first  the  human  ani- 
mal took  the  step  upward  and  found  his  j)]ace  in 
the  ranks  of  moral  persons.  In  the  second  the 
man  takes  the  ultimate  step  upward  and  takes 
his  place  among  the  sons  of  God.  Where  Adam 
was  brought  forth  and  where  his  cradle  was 
rocked  no  one  can  say.  Did  prodigies  attend  it  1 
Did  savage  beasts  stand  about  it  glaring  and 
with  bared  fangs  ?  Probably.  But  the  child, 
after  that  God  had  fashioned  him  into  a  man, 
came  "to  know  good  from  evil."  His  children 
increased  and  multiplied,  delved  and  builded, 
prayed  and  fought  and  sang,  and  the  earth 
through  the  ages  teemed  with  men.  But  the 
chiklren  of  Adam  reached  the  limit  of  their 
capacities.  "  But  when  the  fullness  of  time  was 
come,  God  sent  forth  His  Son,  made  of  a  woman, 

306 


THE  CHRIST   CHILD.  307 

to  redeem  tlieiii,  that  we  miglit  be  called  the  sons 

of  God."  ^    . 

The  ruling  idea  of  Christmas  time  is  that  Orod 
has,  in  some  strange  fashion,  let  himself  into  the 
life  of  humanity.     What  was  not  possible  before 
the   birth   of   the   Christ-child   is   now   natural. 
The  whole  of  human  life  has  been  lifted  up  in 
some  way,  and   set  to  go  forward   on  a  higher 
plane.     As  the  Adamites  were  an  advance  upon 
the  human  brutes  which  went  before  them,  and 
from  whence  Adam  sprang,  so  the  sons  of  God 
are  an   advance  upon   the  sons  of  Adam   from 
whence  Christ  sprang.     This  is  the  belief  with 
which  the  Christian   Scriptures  chiefly  concern 
themselves.     They  have  little  to  say  about  the 
nature  or  attributes  of  God.     They  offer  no  code 
of  morality.     They  speak  but  seldom,  and  then 
confusedly,  about  the  future  life.     They  present 
no   fundamental    system    of    doctrine   or   phil- 
osophy.   But  about  one  thing  they  never  hesitate 
—the  Christian  is  a  new  kind  of  creature.  ^  He  is 
a  man,  but  he  is  a  new  kind  of  man.     He  is  born 
again,  twice  born.     The  foundation  of  his  nature 
is°Adamic  ;  the  building  is  Christian.     He  is  the 
same  kind  of  a  person  that  Christ  was  and  is. 
Jesus  was  "the  first  born  among  many  brethren." 
A  persistent  heresy  ever  assails  this  truth.     It 
assaults  it  as  the  serpent  tried  to  strangle  the 
infant  Hercules  in  his  cradle.     It  conceives  of 
Jesus  as  an  unique  personality,  who  can  have  no 
real  imitators  and  no  progeny.     It  isolates  Him 


308  THE   CHRIST  CHILD. 

from  both  God  and  man,  and  makes  Him  the 
eternal  monster  !  And  it  does  this  in  the  guise 
of  reverence.  Christianity  has  ever  shown  a 
strange  reluctance  to  take  Christ's  own  account 
of  Himself.  His  account  is  marvelous  enough, 
indeed.  But  it  is  a  marvel  which  is  consistent 
with  itself.  He  is  the  founder  of  a  new  order 
of  beings.  He  is  the  first-born  among  many 
In'ethren. 

To  this  is  due  the  persistent  and  ever-recurring 
interest  in  Jesus  Christ.  A  thousand  others 
have  played  a  thousand  times  more  consi3icuous 
roles  than  He,  and  have  been  dead  and  buried 
and  forgotten  centuries  ago.  The  interest  in 
Jesus  is  always  fresh.  He  has  a  deeper  hold 
upon  men's  thoughts  now  at  the  end  of  the  cen- 
tury than  He  had  at  the  beginning  of  it.  Each 
century  finds  a  new  interest  in  Him.  Theology 
busies  itself  at  one  time  with  Him,  and  when  it 
fancies  it  has  exhausted  Him,  history  takes  up 
the  task.  When  history  has  said  its  last  word, 
sociology  begins  to  study  Christ.  Humanity 
cannot  long  remove  its  eyes  from  Him.  The 
reason  is,  men  feel  that  they  are  kin  to  Him,  and 
that  on  that  side  of  their  descent  their  hope  lies. 
The  Christian  belief  is  surely  so  amazing  that 
nothing  but  the  evidence  of  experience  would 
keep  it  alive  for  a  single  year.  It  ventures  to 
believe  that  at  a  defiiute  point  in  history,  at  a 
place  and  time  well  considered  and  appropriate, 
there   was   produced    a    human    personality   in 


THE  CHRIST   CHILD.  309 

wlioTTi  humanity  took  the  final  step  upward  and 
V)ecame  divine.  Tlie  Christian  race  stands  at 
Christmastide  at  the  cradle  of  its  ancestor. 

But  what  of  the  "Second  Man's"  progeny? 
How  does  the  Divine  Man  propagate  his  kind? 
We  are  prone  to  think  there  is  no  mystery  in 
the  transmission  of  life  by  descent.  Men  beget, 
and  women  bear  children  according  to  the  laws 
of  nature.  Yes,  according  to  the  laws  of  nature. 
What  laws?  What  do  yon  mean  by  a  law? 
W^liat  do  you  mean  by  nature?  We  know  noth- 
ing but  facts.  The  "imperious  instinct  of  propa- 
gation "  perpetuates  the  race  of  Adam  after  the 
fashion  which  is  "natural"  to  that  race.  The 
imperious  instinct  of  propagation  also  carries 
forward  and  outward  the  race  of  the  Second 
Man.  We  have  to  do  with  facts.  The  Christ- 
like type  of  man  is  now  found  in  the  world.  It 
is  not  a  "sport,"  or  sporadic  individual  here  and 
there  :  it  is  all  Christendom.  The  new  man  does 
not  move  forward  with  an  equal  step  any  more 
than  the  old  man,  but  he  moves.  He  is  subject 
to  strange  "reversions  "  to  a  lower  type,  just  as 
the  natural  man  is  prone  to  revert  to  the  brute. 
He  falls  far  short  of  the  ideal  "measure  of  the 
stature  of  the  perfect  man  in  Christ  Jesus."  But 
the  ideal  is  here.  It  is  slowly  but  surely  realiz- 
ing itself.  Any  man  who  will  look  can  see  the 
Christ  in  human  society.  His  mighty  spirit 
moves  beneath  it  like  Enceladus  under  tlie  hills 
of    ^tna,    breaking   uj)    the   crusts   of   ancient 


310  THE  CHRIST  CHILD. 

wrongs,  inaldng  channels  for  the  deep  springs 
of  water  to  bnrst  np  for  tlie  solace  of  the  slave, 
the  toiler,  the  down-trodden,  and  hopeless.  The 
Christ  is  abroad.  Some  see  Him.  Still  more 
ask  longingly,  "Sliow  ns  the  Christ."  The 
whole  world  feels  his  presence.  This  week  all 
try  to  become  like  little  children.  We  kneel 
about  his  cradle  and  call  each  other  brother. 


THE  END. 


DATE  DUE 


^,ft-iv¥- 


!-^^i 


,  ^j^—aWMM****-" 


GAYLORD 


rED  IN  U.S. 


Ptincelon  Theological  Seminary-Spei 


1    iMi  ^  ni.^24  6637 


V.    o.^T^.^^^ 


V        V 


;* 

>:^' 


